


Price of a Choice

by FlybyStardancer, gatekat



Series: Prices Paid [2]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: First Time, M/M, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-18 23:44:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1447306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlybyStardancer/pseuds/FlybyStardancer, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatekat/pseuds/gatekat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bluestreak returns to Praxus, he doesn't return alone.  Though it takes a while for that to become apparent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Returning Home

For the first time in over two vorns, Bluestreak was back in his home city. Coming home was painful and bittersweet, but he just couldn't stay in Crystal City after being rejected by _them_. As promised, he had picked up the credit sticks containing his payment and the pad with the confirmation of the completed contract, and was gone. It had taken a surprisingly short time to reach the border between cities, and pay for the fee for his stay. As large as that fee had been... There was still enough credits left on the credit sticks to last him for several metacycles, hopefully enough until he was accepted for a proper job.

But for now... He was finally back in Praxus. His first stop was to his uncle's apartment. He didn't think he could face anyone else in the family right now. But Shatterlight knew what he had done, had accepted it, and Bluestreak needed that comfort badly. Reaching out, he pressed the signal button to announce his presence. His uncle opened the door, took one look at him and all but pulled him inside.

A cube of cheap high grade was pressed into Bluestreak's hands and he was sat down.

"I'm sorry," Shatterlight said quietly once Bluestreak had taken a sip.

"I know you warned me," Bluestreak whispered, beginning to tremble. He took a larger drink, then leaned in close. "I thought I was being careful, but I was wrong." A sob caught in his throat as his uncle held him close, silent but supporting. They held there, Bluestreak trembling, Shatterlight holding his vocalizer, until Bluestreak set the cube aside so that he could latch onto his elder's frame, breaking into sobs. His field spoke the pure emotional pain of _loss_ as he did.

Eventually Bluestreak calmed enough to begin talking. "I tried not to fall for them, but it was so hard... So I asked to stay a bit longer with them, to see..."

"They let you stay," Shatterlight murmured gently, well aware that Bluestreak wasn't back as early as he should have been.

"As a housekeeper, once the recovery time was over," Bluestreak agreed. "I thought I'd see how they acted around me without me carrying, before trying to say anything..." His vents hitched at that.

"And they seemed to still want you?" Shatterlight said gently.

"I thought they did," Bluestreak replied with a choked voice. "I was wrong. I was just _convenient_."

Shatterlight hummed soothingly and held his nephew until Bluestreak began to calm again. "You have a good spark. You wanted to be with the sparkling you helped bring into the world. I'm sorry you had to learn this lesson so young."

"I saw him a few times," Bluestreak admitted. "When he'd sneak off, looking for treats. He's beautiful, so bright..."

"He came from your frame, and his sires are far from shabby looking," Shatterlight reminded him. "I have no doubt he'll grow up fast and attractive."

"He asked if I was his creator, the first time." Bluestreak's field pulsed with _pleasure-pain_ at the memory. "Said my field felt like his sires. Every time I saw him, he was laughing and cheerful, willing to play. _Loves_ his sweets..."

"Every sparkling does. It's good he's happy with his sires. They wanted him badly. They will raise him well. He'll have far more than any of us could hope to give him," Shatterlight said gently.

"I know," Bluestreak whispered quietly. "It's still hard to accept. Especially when I wanted _them_ too."

"I know," Shatterlight whispered. "Being rejected is horrible. It happens to most though, sooner or later."

"It didn't hurt so much with my previous lovers," Bluestreak admitted quietly.

"In time it will hurt less," Shatterlight held him tightly. "Give it time."

"I hope so," Bluestreak whispered, pressing in close to his uncle. He trembled again, this time in exhaustion from the emotional toll from the past orn. 

Shatterlight simply held him, cooing and trilling softly in sympathy until Bluestreak settled a bit more. "Let's get you in a berth."

"Thank you," Bluestreak replied, sounding like a lost youngling once more. He slowly stood up and followed his uncle further in.

* * *

In a metacycle of renting from his uncle Bluestreak had recovered enough to reconnect with his family and began to put in applications for first responder and paramedic positions around the city. While he'd been interviewed, no one had hired him yet. The younger mech had reassured Shatterlight that credits weren't becoming an issue yet, and he seemed to remain optimistic about the job hunt.

That was until he started to notice a drain on his energy levels. Bluestreak had been needing more energon and recharge, and while the amount currently wasn't much both were worried about it getting worse. Bluestreak had made an urgent appointment with the medical center, and Shatterlight knew that he should have already returned home. He would have commed if the medics had wanted to admit him to keep him under observation, so at least the issue wasn't spark threatening or confusing to the medics.

Shatterlight opened the door and stepped inside his apartment to look around for Bluestreak. His nephew was sitting on the couch, trembling. He looked up as he heard Shatterlight enter, optics wide. Every line of his frame spoke of a mech still trying to process something he had learned and not having a lot of success. The racer immediately sat next to him and gathered the young adult in his arms, holding him and trying to allow the contact and his supporting field to calm and steady the shocked mech.

"Talk when you're ready," Shatterlight told him.

Bluestreak shivered, pressing his helm against his uncle's shoulder. "I'm... I'm carrying again," he managed in a hoarse whisper.

Shock rippled through the racer. "How ... no, I know how, and I've got a good idea of who. But I've never heard of carrying again so soon."

"I thought it wasn't possible so soon," Bluestreak agreed. "But it's confirmed and the timing is right and oh Primus I don't know what I'm going to _do_."

"You're young and alone, without a secure job yet. It's a bad time to start a family," Shatterlight said reasonably. "You could contact the twins and see if they want a second creation."

"Nononono," the younger mech's sensor wings shook their denial. "I can't do that. They'd think I did it on purpose, and I can't give another up!"

"As much as it will hurt, dissipating it is the best option," Shatterlight said gently. "You aren't in a position to raise a sparkling."

"I can't do that, Uncle. I _can't_. I'll find something, even if I have to start looking at other fields," Bluestreak replied, his tone pleading for the elder to understand. "I've already lost so much... I can't lose this one too."

"You are young, Blue," Shatterlight reminded him gently. "You will have plenty of opportunities to have a sparkling when you and _your mate_ are ready."

"But it wouldn't be _this one_ ," Bluestreak said. "Primus wouldn't have sent this one if there wasn't a reason for it," he added with all the conviction of youth.

"It is your choice in the end," Shatterlight x-vented sadly. "I can not recommend you have a sparkling now. Just don't mention you're carrying in any interviews."

"Why not?" Bluestreak asked quietly.

Shatterlight sighed. "It will soon reduce the joors you can work. The law requires they allow you the time off to recharge more, and the first vorn after separation off with pay to spend with your sparkling. The time you can devote to your job will be limited and your focus will not be on your duties for at least a couple centuries. Blue, sparklings are the future, but your needs while raising them will be _expensive_ for a company that is trying to make a profit."

"I know that they're expensive and time-consuming, but I can't even process choosing anything different," Bluestreak replied, sensor wings drooping.

"I hope this doesn't destroy the future you gave up your first sparkling to obtain a chance at," Shatterlight said quietly. "You know we'll help where we can."

"I won't let it," Bluestreak replied, determined. "There are plenty of mechs who raise creations solo, and that's without knowing how to stretch a credit the way our class can. It might not have as many credits and vacations as its friends, but it'll know its carrier's love and its family."

"That it will," Shatterlight promised. "We will not shun you or our new kin simply because you don't have a mate. I can't say I agree with your choice, but I will not turn on you for it."

"That's all I need to make this work," Bluestreak replied quietly, his field full of gratitude towards his uncle. "I'll start expanding the positions I'm applying for, maybe something related where I'd be able to spend time sitting. Then carrying wouldn't be as big of a deal until it's time for me to go on leave."

Shatterlight smiled. "That's a very good idea. A transcriber, dispatcher, receptionist or clerk for law enforcement or any hospital system would give you an in, and you could get to know mecha there. Some of those also have relatively flexible joors. So long as the work gets done on time, it doesn't matter what joors you work."

"And it'll give me a chance to learn all the shorthand and codes," Bluestreak said, wings waving as he got into the idea.

"That too," Shatterlight smiled as Bluestreak perked up. "Do you want to tell the family a few at a time, or at the next family meal?"

"I'd rather tell my creators first, but then everyone else at the meal," Bluestreak said, smiling for the first time since Shatterlight got home. "They'll be excited to have a grandcreation."

"And it will allow the rest of the family to take a cue from them as well as you," Shatterlight said as he continued to gently stroke Bluestreak's plating. "It's a good plan."

"I'm sure Boldstreak and Silverwind would be happy to have a cousin-playmate for Airstream," Bluestreak said, wings beginning to flutter.

"No doubt," Shatterlight smiled softly. "Your creation won't lack for playmates or a supportive family."

"Which I'm glad for," Bluestreak replied, smiling, finally able to be happy for the future.

* * *

"Creators!" Bluestreak trilled as he entered his creators' home, followed by Shatterlight.

"Bluestreak," his sire, Bluelight, moved quickly to embrace her creation. "It's good to see you more often than the family dinner."

"You're looking good," his carrier, Stillvoice, added before his turn to hug came.

"Thank you Sire, Carrier," Bluestreak replied, smiling as he returned their affections and smiled as Shatterlight was greeted warmly as well. "How are things going with Sledgehammer?"

"Quite well," Bluelight beamed. "He's moved in and we all believe this will work out. Come on, there's some warm spiced energon and we can talk about these jobs and your future," she guided everyone to the compacted table that the immediate family used.

"I'm glad to hear that," Shatterlight said to Bluelight with a smile.

"I have three really to discuss," Bluestreak admitted as he sat down at the table, his uncle sitting in the next chair. A cube of spiced high grade was put in front of him as the others sat around the table. Bluestreak canted his sensor wings in thanks to his carrier, and hummed in pleasure at the first sip.

"What are they?" Bluelight prompted.

"One's a receptionist at the low-security prison in Crystal Heights. The second one is being an emergency dispatcher for the Enforcers. The third is receptionist at the Enforcer Precinct on 34-B Street," Bluestreak said, tone going serious far faster than his family was used to. This new more business-like Bluestreak was something they were all still adjusting to after the young mech's return from his trip. "I have confirmed, written offers from the first two. I've been given a verbal offer for the last, but we all know it doesn't count until it's in writing."

"They are all _very_ good jobs," Bluelight trilled, her sensor wings flaring in excitement over the prospects her youngest creation was giving and knowing that they could get better in time. "How are they ranked for pay, benefits and risks?"

"The prison receptionist has the best credits and benefits. After that is the precinct receptionist, with the dispatcher coming in last. And the dispatcher has the most irregular work joors, with the newest hires generally getting the worst shifts. However, you don't deal with anyone other than the other dispatchers and mecha over the comms. The two receptionist positions... You're seeing criminals and their families face to face, every orn," Bluestreak's wings trembled at it. "That makes it so much riskier, which is why they pay more."

"Also, the dispatcher job would be best for setting you up for later becoming a medical responder," Shatterlight added.

"True, it would allow you to become familiar with all the quirks of their dialect and code language," Bluelight added, drawn to any job that didn't put her creation at risk, especially not risk that made him so uneasy. "Honestly, if this was something you would stop at, I'd suggest the precinct receptionist. It has the best ratio for pay to risk. But since you're carrying and this isn't where you stop, the one that sets you up for your real long-term job is the best choice in my opinion. It may not pay as well, but you can gain contacts, inside knowledge and practical knowledge while you have limited mobility."

"And it's not like I'd be the first dispatcher in the family," Bluestreak grinned at his carrier. "I'm... thinking of waiting until just before construction starts to tell them I'm carrying," the younger mech added, turning serious again.

"Why?" Bluelight frowned slightly. "It's important to take care of yourself right now."

"I also need to show them my willingness to work, and I could use the extra credits for when I have to go on leave," Bluestreak replied. "It's not like I'd be doing much more than sitting around while talking on comms."

"Bluestreak, just what does that dispatcher job pay?" Stillvoice asked.

"240 thousand a vorn," Bluestreak admitted.

"With benefits," Bluelight scowled.

"Bluestreak, that's almost double what both of us bring in together, and I earn far more than I should with only a First Diploma," Stillvoice pointed out levelly. "Why are you worried about finances?"

"I'm trying to think long-term," Bluestreak said quietly, a hand coming up to touch his chest plates, just above his spark. "I want to be able to give it everything... Including higher schooling, and the chance at maybe even a Third Diploma if it wanted it. When I got the results back from my tests, it was suggested that I would do well the schooling needed, and while I wouldn't be able to afford it for myself..."

"You want to be able to afford it for your creation," Bluelight softened. "Bluestreak, we aren't kicking you out of the family. You'll have the same support we all have from kin. Live within _our_ means and you'll be able to pay for a Third Degree for him, and eventually for yourself. Remember how often you were with kin instead of a care center?"

"I don't even remember ever being in a care center," Bluestreak replied softly. "And I... I also want to at least try to give him upgrades and supplements closer to what its sires would have been able to give it," he replied, his voice quieting even further. It was the first time he had really admitted anything about his newspark's sires to his creators.

The pair looked at each other, then at Shatterlight, who simply nodded towards Bluestreak.

"My little one, who are they?" Stillvoice stood to embrace his youngest creation.

Bluestreak leaned into his carrier's frame gratefully. "A set of twins in Crystal City, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. They're not nobility, but they make enough credits to be a part of those social circles." He felt his carrier's shock, saw it in his sire.

"How did you end up with them, and _carrying_ , and they aren't taking care of you both?" Bluelight's tone was sharp, her sensor wings flared in outrage that a sire would abandon their creation like that.

"Sire, I was back in Praxus before I knew I was carrying, and it was my choice not to tell them," Bluestreak said firmly. "They were the ones I was doing contract work for, and no, they did not force me to interface with them. That happened after the contract was completed. And I just... read more into it than they did. But if they knew I was carrying, they'd want full custody, and they'd be able to convince even a Praxian judge to give it to them."

"Because they have that much more wealth," Bluelight settled down. "What was your contract for? What could those kind of mecha need of you? How did you even meet them?"

Bluestreak hesitated a moment, before looking down as his sensor wings drooped. If anyone deserved to know, it was his creators. "I carried for them," he admitted, quiet voice thick with emotions. "They wanted a creation but couldn't carry themselves since they're twins. They had hired an agent to recruit potential mecha for the job, and found me through him."

There was silence around the table for a long, tense several kliks as Bluelight and Stillvoice processed that.

"You knew," Stillvoice looked at Shatterlight. The racer canted his sensor wings in apology, that he had been keeping it quiet at Bluestreak's request.

"Why did you accept?" Bluelight was focused on Bluestreak.

Bluestreak explained his reasoning to his creators, about the rising fee to return home and how it was beyond what he felt he could ask family to help with. Then he mentioned what they had paid him in return. "They were the ones to pay for tutoring and the chance to take the test for a Second Diploma," he added. "That wasn't even directly a part of the contract, and I didn't think of it until well after I had agreed."

"They did that to ... pamper you?" Stillvoice hesitated, uncertain of the leap he'd made. "You just _asked_ and they paid for it all?"

"Yes," Bluestreak confirmed. "I don't think they would have done the same for a Third Diploma even if there was time, but a Second was within what they were willing to spend."

"What Diplomas do they have?" Stillvoice asked, more curious than needing to know.

"What do they do for credits?" Bluelight asked.

"Sunstreaker has a Fourth Diploma, and he paints. Murals, portraits... A lot of high-end commissions and what isn't a commission sells for a _lot_ of credits. Sideswipe has a Fifth Diploma and operates as a merchant. Handles the business end of his brother's art, as well as acquiring and selling other high-luxury items." Bluestreak explained as best he could.

"They're self-made mecha." A voice Bluestreak rarely heard in family talks came from the doorway. "I've heard of Sunstreaker. Real talent there from what I've seen."

"Hi Sledgehammer," Bluestreak greeted his creators' lover. "He is really, really good. I got to see quite a bit of his work."

"I'm sure," the heavier build Praxian mech nodded as he walked through the living room into the small kitchen/energon storage area. "Airstream and Gadget are hungry."

"What did they start with?" Bluelight asked anyone who could answer.

"I never asked," Bluestreak admitted. "They didn't really like to talk about their younglinghood or creators."

Acceptance greeted that answer and Sledgehammer was soon gone to tend to the sparklings under his care.

"Okay, back to the subject," Bluelight dragged them all back on track. "Do you have a preference for which job to take?"

"The emergency dispatcher," Bluestreak said right away. "The safety, and how it's a good stepping stone to what I want in a career."

"Those are good reasons to accept that one," Bluelight smiled.

"Agreed," Sillvoice nuzzled him before going to sit down next to his mate. "Though I doubt any of the three are truly terrible."

"I'm hoping this works out," Bluestreak replied, then perked up with some of his old cheer. "So now tell us your plans for the next outing with Sledgehammer!"

* * *

Bluestreak smiled as he looked around the room at the gathered sparklings and younglings. Soon, very soon, the sparkling inside him would be a part of this group. For this shift, Bluestreak and one of his other cousins were watching them, with a younger mechling to help. It felt so good to be a part of this once more, seeing all of the youngest generation of the family together. It soothed him in a way that little else did since he returned from Crystal City.

This was a well-organized arrangement with the extended family and some close family friends in the neighborhood. It strengthened ties between the cousins and within the community, and provided extra credits for those who watched over the sparklings while still being far, far cheaper than a care center. There were shifts that covered all joors and orns, so that those who didn't work normal joors could have their creations here. Scheduling shifts gave preference to family members that needed either the credits or experience. Bluestreak, despite his feelings, was solidly in the second category being a first-time carrier as far as the world was concerned.

"Bluestreak!" Airstream cried as he ran up, holding out his arms to be picked up. Bluestreak grinned, lifting the sparkling onto what left of his lap. "How is Prowl?"

"Eager to be out and meet playmates," Bluestreak replied with a smile as the sparkling resting his helm against the expanded armor, tapping on it as if he could communicate with his cousin that way.

Inside him, Prowl growled at his creator to stop the noise disrupting his nap, but even in his irritation the almost-complete sparkling was surprisingly polite. Something Bluestreak was immensely grateful for given how much more tiring this carry was without any sires to help supplement him with transfluid. The energon and supplement quality was likely involved too, even though Bluestreak was purchasing a higher quality than what the rest of the family used. It still wasn't anywhere near what _they_ had insisted on providing while he was with them.

"Want to meet him." Airstream trilled eagerly. "Won't be the youngest anymore!"

"He's napping at the moment," Bluestreak explained, catching the sparkling's hands gently. He sent a wave of love over the creation bond to try to settle Prowl once more, even as he gave the sparkling on his lap his attention. "It won't be long until you get to meet him. You'll show him all of the best toys and games, right?"

"Always." Airstream promised seriously. "Show him everybody and all the good places too."

"You'll be a good friend for him," Bluestreak said, giving Airstream a kiss on his helm. "Just like your sire and I were when we were little."

"I will," Airstream grinned, then whipped his helm around and squirmed to get out of Bluestreak's grip, his little wing nubs fluttering madly. A moment later Silverwind pinged at the door.

"Looks like your carrier is here," Bluestreak said, setting the sparkling down so he could lever himself to his pedes. He walked over, opening the door for the Altihexian. "Hi Silverwind!"

"How was my little sprite?" he knelt for Airstream to run into his arms and hugged the sparkling close. "Did you behave for Uncle Bluestreak?"

"Always!" Airstream giggled and hugged his carrier.

"He's a joy to watch over," Bluestreak replied. "And as eager as the rest of us to have Prowl here."

"I'm sure. How are you doing?" he asked with more seriousness. "It can't be easy without a sire to help."

Bluestreak gave him a bit of a wry smile. "I'm holding up. I do ache more than what the reading suggested, and there's the frustration of over active interface protocols without someone to focus on." He ran a loving hand over his distended plating. "Prowl isn't making it worse though. He's so calm despite how much I can feel he wants out."

"Mmm, the quiet ones can be the hardest to control, or the easiest," Silverwind hummed. "It'll be interesting to see which side he takes to. A lot depends on how much he wants to please his elders."

"I'm hoping he'll be one of the easy ones," Bluestreak said. "I'll be kept on my pedes keeping him entertained. His biggest complaint right now is that he's bored."

"Oh my, that sounds like one of the difficult ones, but we'll see," Silverwind trilled encouragement. "I'm sure he'll be a darling and a sparkbreaker when he grows up, like so much of his family."

"He definitely will," Bluestreak trilled in agreement. "I can already tell that everything will be worth it."

"That's wonderful to hear," Silverwing settled Airstream in his arms. "I know I found this stage to be the hardest. Even with Boldstreak to help, it was just as difficult for me as for this little imp once I couldn't transform. Glad you enjoy being with the little ones too. See you later!" he said before turning to leave.


	2. Sparkling Times

In some ways, this separation was very similar to the previous separation that he had been through. The notices had appeared just as before, with the same intervals. The shifting of his plating felt just as odd as before.

However, this time the medics around him were Praxian and the bonded pair next to him were his own creators. There would be no taking _this_ sparkling from him. Just that knowledge made the process seem to be less difficult, less disturbing, less _lonely_. This was the clinic where he'd separated, and where nearly every one of his extended kin had separated in for generations. It wasn't fancy, with separation surgery specialists on hand, but the primary medic attending to him did almost nothing but help new sparklings extract themselves from their creator's frames. He wasn't a doctor, just a medic, but he had many thousands of separations worth of experience and Bluestreak was sure there wasn't much he hadn't seen.

Sledgehammer and Shatterlight were in the waiting room along with maybe a dozen other cousins and uncles as was befitting close kin. They'd be among the first to greet little Prowl, but only after he'd been cleaned up, Bluestreak had his bonding time and Bluestreak's frame had closed again. 

Bluestreak was also glad for how calm Prowl was being. He seemed to truly understand that pushing would do nothing but cause his carrier pain.

"The plates are almost open," Bydwraig, the medic in charge, said, just in time for Prowl to become noticeably more active now that there was a visible path for him. "That's better. Most sparklings are more aggressive. He had me worried for a bit."

Prowl chirped at the sound coming in and tried to move closer to the light.

"He's been a calm sparkling," Bluestreak said, his voice full of love for the sparkling that would soon be out of him.

Finally, the last of the plates shifted aside, giving Prowl a clear path to the world beyond. Bluestreak could feel the methodical movements inside him, and though it was decidedly unsettling, it was also absolutely wonderful. There would be no horror stories this time. Prowl was patient and intentional, not rushing into the light like Hot Rod had. Looking down he watched a hand emerge, then a helm and some shoulders.

"That's it, you're doing well Prowl," Bluestreak trilled in encouragement, _love-amazement-joy_ flooding his field. Hands moved to either side of Prowl, guiding without touching. This was _his_ sparkling climbing out strong and determined. This time the medics hung back, allowing for the moment to be between carrier and creation. Bluestreak's gaze found Prowl's and he trilled encouragement again.

Through their fields, still tightly meshed, Bluestreak could feel Prowl's pride at extracting himself, and the focus on getting closer to the spark that had sustained him for so long. He made a few chirping trills in reply to his carrier, but mostly focused on getting out, then on the long, long crawl towards his carrier's spark and face.

"Do you feel strong enough to wipe him off?" Bydwraig asked calmly, extra soft cloths in hand.

"Yes," the new creator replied to him, though his attention remained on his creation, as it should be. "You're doing very well," he cooed, his hands finally holding _his creation_ for the first time as the sparkling settled on his chest. Absolute unconditional love and pride flowed through their fields and the strengthening creator-creation bond. His spark felt like it would burst from the intensity of his emotions. "I love you, my Prowl."

Prowl clicked back, tired at the intense effort of his first act as an independent mecha.

"He's a strong one," Bydwraig smiled as he handed Bluestreak a couple cloths and went to work cleaning up Bluestreak's plating.

"He's lovely," Stillvoice trilled, his sensor wings quivering in excitement as he watched his youngest creation tend to his newest grand-creation.

Bluestreak worked diligently to clean Prowl's frame before he began to feel his own exhaustion. "He's perfect," the young mech murmured tiredly, his attention still focused on the sparkling recharging against him, field open, unguarded and content.

"Yes, he is," Bluelight reached to gently stroke her creation's helm. "You did very well. Recharge now. He can meet the others when you wake."

"Thank you, sire," Bluestreak whispered, slipping into recharge with his creation.

* * *

Bluestreak held Prowl in his arms as he made their way to their seat in Praxus' main racetrack. This was the young sparkling's first outing into public and it was simply easier for Bluestreak to carry him. Prowl's optics were wide as he tried to take in all of the new sights and sounds. Bluestreak smiled and nuzzled his delicate helm to get his attention. "You ready to watch some racing, my love?"

"Yes!" the well-built sparkling cheered, his good mood and good looks earning a few smiles from around them, and more relief. No one enjoyed being around an unhappy sparkling.

Bluestreak found their seat and settled in, and then pointed to the track below them. "See that line there? The racers will wait behind it and then start driving when they hear a loud beep."

Prowl fixated on the point where his carrier indicated, intent on absorbing the information, then relaxed and chirred his excitement. "Uncle Shatterlight will be there."

"Yes, he will be," Bluestreak said, pride filling his field that Prowl remembered and made the connection. "He'll be in three races today."

"He'll win all?" Prowl asked, cooing happily at his carrier's pride.

"That's what we hope, though he may not. We'll just have to cheer him on when he races," Bluestreak said. He glanced down and saw the first set of racers gathering. "They're getting ready to start."

Prowl stared at them, studying the race and racers as much as his still-developing processors could manage. He was absolutely silent for the first race, watching, learning, thinking. Only after the winner was announced did he look up at Bluestreak. "Why don't the same mecha always win? The variables don't change."

"Sometimes they start out in different slots on the track, and some might be a bit more distracted by their lives outside of racing, or they might make different decisions in how they run the race," Bluestreak explained. "These are personal variables that can't be measured, but have a real impact on how each race plays out."

Prowl scowled briefly, his tiny wing numbs twitching as he worked through that, then huffed. "Everything can be measured."

"Maybe it can be, then, but it would be hard to do," Bluestreak replied, and nuzzled him. "Either way, it makes the races more exciting to not know beforehand."

Prowl stilled as he ran that through his processors several times, then huffed again. "I like knowing."

Bluestreak smiled and nuzzled him. "I'm sure one orn you'll find a way to know, then. And look, here comes Uncle Shatterlight for his first race!" Bluestreak pointed to the familiar figure way down below. Prowl immediately forgot about his annoyance and cheered for the mech he knew, and knew, in an abstract way, that this was Shatterlight's _function_. Even if he didn't fully grasp what a function was.

Bluestreak cheered as well as the beep sounded to start the race. They watched as the various mecha jockeyed for position, and finally crossed the finish line with Shatterlight in third place. In his lap Prowl was jumping and cheering the entire time, only quieting when he realized that Shatterlight hadn't won. Tiny wing-nubs twitched at the disappointing result.

"It's alright, love," Bluestreak said, stroking Prowl's back. "Third is still a good result, and he'll have two more chances today."

"Okay," Prowl accepted the statement and settled down. "It's better to win, though, right?"

"Yes. The goal is to win. They also keep track over where you place in each race to see who is the best racer every vorn," Bluestreak explained.

The next race caught the sparkling's attention, and they went back to watching, and cheering when Shatterlight came out for his races.

* * *

"Are you ready to meet more of your cousins?" Bluestreak asked Prowl as they headed towards the home hosting the sparkling/youngling care cooperative that orn. It would be Prowl's first time joining the group, and Bluestreak was scheduled as one of the caretakers that shift, so that he could be there to make sure Prowl would be alright. He expected it to go well. Prowl had been a little shy, but handled his Introduction Party without needing too many breaks.

"Yes!" Prowl grinned and hugged Bluestreak's neck, his tiny wing numbs flapping with excitement. "I want to meet all these mecha you've told me about."

"And they're all excited to meet you," Bluestreak grinned in reply. "Remember, if it gets overwhelming just let me know." He nuzzled Prowl's helm before opening the door to the controlled chaos inside.

"Hey Bluestreak, Prowl," Tagwind greeted the pair warmly as he carefully waded through a dozen sparklings and younglings. "Ready for your first family gather, Prowl?"

"Yes!" the sparkling cheered, squirming in his carrier's arms, but not enough to actually escape.

"Prowl, this is cousin Tagwind," Bluestreak introduced him to the other adult that would be watching the younger generation. "He's been such a good sparkling. Smart and endlessly curious, too."

"Hello Tagwind," Prowl chirped with a welcoming trill.

"Hello Prowl," Tagwind smiled and reached out to lightly stroke along his backstrut as a sparkling came zooming out of the crowd to latch onto Bluestreak's leg. 

"He's here! He's here!" Airstream cried happily.

"Hello Airstream," Prowl grinned down at the sparkling a few vorns older than he was.

"Hi Prowl!" Airstream cheered, holding out an arm in clear demand for his new cousin to be put within reach. Bluestreak chuckled, and knelt to set Prowl on his pedes, steadying them as Airstream gave Prowl an enthusiastic glomp. "C'mon, there's lots of toys and games to play with!" the excited sparkling continued, eager to be the one to show a new cousin the ropes.

Prowl gave a quick look at his carrier, who smiled and flicked his sensor wings in permission and ran off behind the older sparkling.

"Over here we got figures and building sets and puzzles!" Airstream said as he led Prowl over to a toy chest, with several others scattered around.

"Building sets..." Prowl trilled excitedly, his attention latching onto a concept he understood as he studied the large, simple shapes designed to snap together. "Want to build?"

"Yes!" Airstream replied, helping Prowl to grab the toys. "Like to make tall towers!"

Prowl grinned, his wing nubs flicking with excitement as they gathered enough to start playing. "What have you built?"

"Houses and lots of towers! Though the towers keep falling..." Airstream's wing nubs twitched unhappily at that fact.

Prowl hummed and nodded. "Let's build a tower. Maybe _we_ can make one that doesn't fall."

"Yes!" Airstream cheered, grabbing blocks and starting to stack them in a single column.

"A wider base would be taller," Prowl said hesitantly.

Airstream tilted his helm curiously at Prowl, clearly not upset at the interruption. "How?"

"A wider base is more stable," Prowl tried to explain. "Like standing on hands and pedes is more stable than just pedes."

"How do we build it, then? Too many blocks go in base, we won't have enough to make tall," Airstream pointed out.

Prowl was silent for a very long time, at least to the sparkling across from him. He was oblivious to the attention of a couple older younglings the conversation had drawn.

"A hollow tower, like the real thing," Prowl put action to words and moved four blocks into a + with a large gap in the middle. The next level put half the attachment points on the block under it, and half out into the air. "The next level further in, so the blocks touch. Then build up."

"Like this?" Airstream asked, starting to add more blocks to the four-sided base as they touched, and then were connected on the fourth level.

"Yes," Prowl smiled, still rather serious even as he added blocks to the tower that now rose in a single line upwards.

Airstream cheered as he followed Prowl's plan, adding more and more blocks. "It's working, it's working!"

"Good," Prowl replied, uncertain what else to say. He settled back, quite content to watch the other sparkling built the tower higher. He knew the point it would fall, and that was taller than Airstream could reach. Not to mention the older sparkling ran out of blocks well before he reached that point. 

"Yay! Look! Look! It's so tall!" Airstream cheered, bouncing on his pedes in his excitement.

"Quite tall," a youngling who'd been watching agreed. "How much taller can it go?" he glanced at Prowl.

"Maybe another third taller," he decided after a moment to consider the question.

"You're the best, Prowl!" Airstream insisted, glomping his cousin again. 

Prowl's field flared with pleasure and he grinned at the sparkling attached to him. "Maybe we can get more bricks and build _bigger_?"

"Yes!" Airstream looked around, and saw another sparkling with more of the bricks. "Oasis! Want to help us?"

"See what I mean about Prowl being smart?" Bluestreak asked Tagwind, pride thick in his field.

"Yes, and nicely social for his age too," Tagwind smiled back. "Cooperative is a good core trait, even if he seems a bit introverted."

Bluestreak nodded. "I'm hoping that being with family will get him used to socializing. It's so important, for pretty much everything. Though I'm sure I'm quickly going to run out of toys that will keep up with him," Bluestreak chuckled.

"Honestly, invest in a heavy duty datapad." Tagwind suggested seriously. "Remember Mindstreak? He's well up in the spy ranks as an analyst now, but he started as one of us. It took six metacycles worth of savings for them, but his creators bought one sturdy enough he couldn't break it and kept loading puzzles and such. They credit it with getting his sponsor's attention. Digital is a lot cheaper than physical, at least at their level too."

Bluestreak nodded, happy for the advice. "That's a very good idea. I'm also trying to save up to get him in one of the paid schools. My goal is to try to be able to pay for him to get a Third Diploma, if he wants to go that far."

"From the looks so far, he will, and he'll manage it well enough," Tagwind hummed. "What about trying for a sponsor?"

"I'm planning on trying for one, that's part of why I want him in a paid school... But it's better to plan for not having one. There's so many who could go much further with a sponsor and still don't get one," Bluestreak said, sensor wings shrugging. "This way if he does get a sponsor, all the better, but I want to prepare for paying for it myself."

"That's a good plan," Tagwind nodded. "Hope for the best, plan for the worst, be ready for anything and never forget you have kin."

Bluestreak twitched his sensor wings gratefully. "I wouldn't be doing nearly so well without kin," he admitted. Even now, he still dreamed about that second vorn in Crystal City. Still unconsciously pulled up images of _them_ when pleasuring himself. He honestly didn't want to think of the state he would have been in without his sparkling to focus on.

"None of us would," Tagwind smiled over at him gently. "Even those with a full triad find the support helpful. I'm just glad you made it back before you realized you were carrying. I can't imagine trying to carry alone and in a strange city." He shivered at the thought.

"Yes, that would have been bad," Bluestreak agreed quietly. "The only time I could have kindled him would have been the night before I came back, when I had just gotten enough credits to be able to cross back over into Praxus."

A loud crash caused both adults to startle and focus on the sound, only to relax when it registered that it was only the tower coming down. It had grown too tall for the simple base it had.

Bluestreak grinned at his cousin. "How fast do you think they'll find a way to make it taller?"

"If they listen to Prowl, maybe a breem. But most of a joor to build it up," Tagwind grinned back.

Yes, Prowl would do well with family when Bluestreak went back to work.

* * *

Quickfix mulled over his choices for the first responder teams to assign their newest recruit to. He was grateful for picking up a mech that had tested so high with the Second Diploma tests, even if it was out of Crystal City, and aced every first responder course. He'd even done well enough in the placement screening to land here on the front line for his first assignment. The down side was unfortunately just as striking. A single creator with a vorn-old sparkling from a First Diploma caste. There were a few mecha that he simply could not assign Bluestreak to work with until the mech was rock solid and could give as good as he got.

His best option seemed to be to put him in with Stripbolt and Softlight. Stripbolt wasn't an ideal partner, but at least he would stay professional while out on calls. Quickfix had to hope Softlight would be enough to counter Stripbolt's attitude while at base. He knew he could count on Softlight to introduce Bluestreak to the more tolerant mecha in the unit as well. The mech's time in dispatch would help too, since they all had at least some familiarity with his reactions under pressure. It was a better start than many had. Quickfix was going to take the third post in the unit, as was standard for those on probation. For their transport, Quickfix smiled and chose his oldest friend in the department. Rapidfire had been a gruff but patient old mech when they'd met on Quickfix's first shift, and while Quickfix rose through the ranks, the heavy transport rotor was content to remain what he had always been.

With a final x-vent, he stood to go greet his crews and new recruit in the conference room for the beginning of the shift passdown. Not that there was really much to say; everyone knew who they were teamed with this decaorn as soon as he'd pressed submit on the roster.

Bluestreak was already there and waiting, the set of his sensor wings eager. He started over when he saw the shift captain. "Captain Quickfix! Bluestreak reporting in."

"Welcome on board," he accepted the mech into his crew. "Now if everyone will pay attention, I have the crew breakdowns for the decaorn."

Bluestreak, as well as all of the other First Responders present, gave their attention to Quickfix as he rattled off the teams. It was custom, tradition, and no one up or down the chain of command had yet groused about it so it continued.

Bluestreak seemed enraptured, paying close attention. It was touching, how probationers tried to absorb every bit of the Responder culture on their first orn. The good ones took it in, adopted it, made it their own and stopped thinking about it. It was the ones that never lose that 'what's going on' look that he had to watch out for. It was far easier to pass the written and practical tests than it was to actually _be_ a Responder. Not every mecha who got to Bluestreak's place was welded together for the function. If he was lucky, they would leave. The ones Quickfix had to find were those too stubborn or desperate to realize they didn't belong before their coding broke.

"Come, I'll introduce you to your first team," Quickfix smiled at him.

"Thank you, sir," Bluestreak replied with a large grin. He followed the Captain as they moved towards a cluster of three other mechs, two medium sized and one convoy class rotor.

"This is Stripbolt and Softlight, and our transport for the decaorn is Rapidfire."

"Welcome to the Responders," Softlight greeted, smiling warmly at the younger mech. "I hope you do well here."

"Welcome," Stripbolt said hollowly after a glance at Quickfix. His field was pulled in tight and he looked away, as if he couldn't bear to look at Bluestreak. Rapidfire simply twitched his rotors in greeting.

"Thank you. It's good to meet all of you," Bluestreak said with a flutter of his sensor wings. He was instinctively drawn to Softlight as the most outwardly friendly of the small team, and followed him as everyone milled about, chatting and simply enjoying a morning that didn't start off with chaos. "Stripbolt doesn't seem to like me already," he asked in barely more than a whisper.

Softlight smiled, placing a hand on Bluestreak's arm. "Don't let it get to you. Unfortunately, it's unlikely that you'll win him over. Why don't you tell me about yourself?"

Bluestreak smiled and tried to relax. "As I mechling I saved up enough to travel some after my adult upgrades. I love seeing new places, meeting new mecha, experiencing new things. I kinda got stuck in Crystal City for longer than planned, but it netted me my Second Diploma and First Responder training, and that was so worth it. I love helping mecha."

"I'm glad you had the chance, then. I hear you have a sparkling?" Softlight asked, smiling gently.

Bluestreak's expression became a bit giddy. "Prowl. He's just over a vorn old now. He's with age-mate cousins while I'm at work."

"And without a doubt the pride and joy of your life," Softlight said, all too knowingly. "I've raised two myself, and there's a few Responders with creations still in their minority."

"He is, he's _so_ smart, and sweet. The only time he gives me any trouble is when he's bored," Bluestreak giggled. "Which is fortunately easy to avert most orns. Are yours adults?"

"You're lucky then, with him. And yes, both are adults and happily settled into their functions. Here, I'll introduce you to the friendlier mecha on the shift," Softlight offered, He guided the younger mech around, introducing him to those who would be less prejudiced against him. 

They chatted, a few having to leave as their teams were sent out on calls, until Captain Quickfix sent out a signal for his team to scramble. It was their turn to go out on a call, Bluestreak's first. As the data scrolled across Bluestreak's HUD, he felt his tank churn with both anxiety and excitement yet it was the almost palpable change in Stripbolt that caught his attention the most as Rapidfire flew towards the multi-mech pile up. The mech who couldn't look at him before no longer seemed to care that Bluestreak was ... whatever Bluestreak was that upset him.

It was strange, but also relieving. It would have been so much harder to work in a crisis situation if his fellow Responders snubbed and refused to talk to him, or acted in other unpleasant ways. Working with them would be necessary on this call more than most. Thanks to his time in dispatch, Bluestreak was well aware that this was a bad call. So far, witness reports indicated that this would not be an easy incident to handle even for a fully trained, cohesive unit. At least one fatality was already gray and a medic-intern on scene was reporting that he expected at least four more to gray if help didn't arrive within the breem. Privately, Bluestreak knew that no matter how stressed that poor intern was, he'd no doubt saved sparks just by being able to give medic-grade information to dispatch so the First Responders could hit the ground with a priority list and layout in place.

"Hotzone landing in five hundred thirty one nanokliks," Rapidfire reported. "Be ready to move, Bluestreak."

Just over a klik.

"I will be," Bluestreak promised, shifting to check his kit and protocols.

And then they were on the ground, leaving Rapidfire's hold in an orderly rush. The scene was every bit as nightmarish as Bluestreak had anticipated. From the way frames were scattered, the mecha involved must have been traveling in three different directions. Besides the four critical, there were five others with injuries that would need to be checked.

Captain Quickfix went straight to the medic-intern, who was working on a mech that seemed to have hit the one fatality head-on. The other three split themselves between the other criticals without speaking. The one Bluestreak approached was a young mechling, probably only a handful of vorns into his upgrades. He was trapped in vehicle mode, but conscious and screaming his pain. Bluestreak's hands worked furiously as he followed his instructions, though his voice was calm as he spoke to the mechling, trying to calm him. "I'm Responder Bluestreak. I'm here and working on you. We'll get you stabilized so you can be moved to a medical facility. Please try to calm down and regulate your intakes," he said in his best soothing voice.

Though as positive as he tried to be while he spoke, his own prognosis as he worked wasn't as good. He was frantically trying to patch leaks and get to the mechling's chamber to stabilize it, but there were just too many for one pair of hands. And the condition of the mechling wasn't helping. For how young he was, there were still older injuries that looked poorly-healed. They meant that he was at a higher risk, and some of the lines and plating that remained intact from the crash shifted and cracked under Bluestreak's hands.

"What is your designation?" Bluestreak asked as Rapidfire was suddenly on his comm, his voice a low, calm rumble with a mixture of practical advice, updates on the others and the situation and a bit of gruff encouragement.

"Keystroke," the youth managed to gasp out. "Please sir, please, it hurts so badly..."

"Just keep talking to me and try not to think about the pain," Bluestreak requested, his voice and field calm. "I'll put you in stasis as soon as I can."

"How soon will that be?" Keystroke asked. "It hurts so much. Even my spark hurts." Bluestreak could feel the mechling's field fluctuate in a worrying way. That, combined with Keystroke's glyphs made Bluestreak very worried for him.

"As soon as I can," Bluestreak promised, working as rapidly as he could. Readings and Keystroke's field kept weakening, but as long as there was a chance to stabilize the mech Bluestreak would keep trying. "Who hurt you before this?"

"Please, sir," was the sparkbreaking plea. There was another fluctuation, and then everything went still.

"Rest with Primus, Keystroke," Bluestreak whispered, trembling as the frame he was trying to patch went gray and began to cool under his hands.

::Bluestreak, move on.:: Quickfix commed him after a fifth of a klik. ::You can't help that one anymore.::

::Yes, sir,:: Bluestreak replied, quickly cleaning his hands as he looked around and identified the worst of those that had yet to be tended. He shoved his emotions into a little box in the back of his processor. He would have to deal with them later, once there was no one else needing his help. The remainder of his shift continued like that. He was sent with Rapidfire to transfer the surviving critical patients to the closest hospital, then finished patching up lesser damage and reporting to the Enforcers. While he didn't expect anything to come of it, that he believed Keystroke to have suffered repeated abuse that vorn landed in those notes as well.

Then they were headed back to base and Bluestreak felt it come crashing in on him.

Bluestreak trembled in his seat, intakes hitching quietly as his optics shut off. He had done all he could, but his first patient had extinguished on him. 

Absently, he felt Softlight's hand touch his arm, silent comfort in his field brushing against the new Responder.

He had done all he could have. Bluestreak kept repeating that mantra to himself. There had likely been an injury to the area around Keystroke's spark, an area he couldn't have reached while the mechling was in vehicle mode. The older and poorly repaired damage hadn't helped. He'd been structurally weak even before the wreck.

::We don't lose that many,:: Rapidfire's voice was a low rumble over the comm. ::Don't let this taint your view of the function.::

::Thank you,:: Bluestreak replied. While it wasn't the norm, he had known it was a possibility. They just couldn't save everyone. By the time they reached base once more, his field had settled. Still somber, but no longer aching for the impossible.

"You did your best," Quickfix put a hand on Bluestreak's shoulder and squeezed lightly after they landed. "You're taking to the grief control protocols well too."

"Thank you, sir. It helps, knowing I did all I could have. And so did working on others afterwards," Bluestreak said quietly.

"It always does," Softlight added. "So does having family and friends to support you when you come off shift."

"Come on," Quickfix nudged him. "Let's clean up and fill out the reports. Our shift's basically over."

Bluestreak nodded obediently, following the others to the washracks to clean the remains of the crash scene off their frames. He would be very glad to see his sparkling once he got home.

* * *

"Remember, this is just like when you play with your cousins, only there will be new adults and sparklings for you to play with," Bluestreak reminded Prowl as he carried the sparkling towards the Care Center that he would be at for Bluestreak's shift that orn. "Mind the caretakers, and I'll be back after my shift with the Responders."

"Okay. I'll behave," Prowl promised with sparkling seriousness as he clung to his carrier's neck, bright, pale blue optics scanning to take everything in.

"You're a good sparkling, Prowl," Bluestreak replied with a smile, his field full of love and pride for this spark he had created.

It only took a couple breems for Bluestreak to check Prowl into the Care Center. He gave the sparkling a kiss goodbye, and watched as a caretaker led him into a room full of other sparklings. Unlike when the family had him, there were close to three dozen here and half of them swarmed up to meet the new sparkling. Prowl stiffened, his wing-nubs jerking almost vertical in a display that if he were older would have promised immediate violence.

"I know you're all excited, but please back up and give him some space," was the firm order as soon as the caretaker saw his nubs shift in the tell-tale way and felt Prowl try to back away. The caretaker knelt, coming closer to Prowl's level and felt him relax slightly. "Everyone, this is Prowl. You will all have a chance to meet him, so you don't need to crowd in close."

One of the sparklings approached when the caretaker motioned to him. "Prowl, this is Strongwind. He will show you around the play area."

"Hihi Prowl!" Strongwind greeted the new sparkling, wing-nubs twitching excitedly.

"Hello, Strongwind," Prowl responded, his accent immediately giving him away as from a First Diploma family and _different_ from the others.

Strongwind tilted his helm curiously at Prowl's accent, then grabbed his arm and gave a light tug. "C'mon! The toys are this way! What's your favorite to play with?"

"I like building blocks and puzzles," Prowl answered as he followed along, relaxing as he could focus on one mecha rather than the crowd.

"I like them too!" Strongwind said eagerly. "Especially the blocks! They're a kind of puzzle on their own! And I like the climbing areas outside, the higher the better! I want to fly, but my creators say I can't without them around."

"You can fly already?" Prowl stared at the wing-nubs that weren't much larger than his own. "I thought that was a youngling thing."

"I'm a flyer!" Strongwind insisted with all the certainty of a sparkling. "Flyers fly. I'm just not good at it yet. Gotta practice, but creators say I'll hurt myself if I try without them."

Prowl nodded and zeroed in on the blocks. "What do you like to build?"

"Towers and aeries and even bridges when I can get the ones that snap together! And I like to make 'em big with doors and rooms, and sometime some of the others play in them with figures," Strongwind said enthusiastically.

"You're _smart_ ," Prowl trilled, impressed at such advanced building abilities in a sparkling that couldn't be much older than he was. "Build a tower together?"

"Yes!" Strongwind trilled, helping Prowl to grab the blocks available. "My creators taught me some, too."

"Are you here often?" Prowl asked as he sorted the blocks into piles by shape and marveled at the variety and smaller size compared to what he was used to.

"Uh huh. My creators both work at the same time, so they bring me here while they're working," Strongwind said, taking some of the blocks and making the base of the tower.

Prowl paused and watched, but also thought and watched as two more slightly older sparklings joined them. "You don't have kin to stay with?"

"Sometimes I'll spend a few orns with my grandcreators, and my creators will bring me when we have a meal with my aunts and uncles, but nothing like when I stay here," Stormwind replied, looking at him curiously. "Why?"

"Oh," Prowl hummed as he assessed what was being built. "I spend a lot of time with cousin age-mates. Those who can't work watch over us while creators work."

"Why couldn't they work?" one of the new sparklings frowned.

"Damage, late during a carry," Prowl shrugged. "I never really asked."

"Is that why you talk funny?" Strongwind asked curiously, no malicious intent in his voice.

"I don't talk funny," Prowl scowled at the other, though the look was more of confusion than upset. He paused. "Probably?"

"You don't talk like anyone else here!" Strongwind said, starting to build a doorway in the tower they were making.

"Then ... I guess so?" Prowl wasn't sure.

Strongwing carefully started stacking blocks closer and closer together at the top of the doorway, so that they could put more bricks on top. "How come you haven't come here before?"

"I was with kin," Prowl answered, willing to sit back, organize and push the blocks that were needed towards searching hands as the doorway was finished. "I'll be with them a lot of orns."

"Then why are you here now?" the other sparkling asked, confused.

"Carrier wants to me socialize outside the family several orns a decaorn," Prowl explained. "To be more ready for school without cousins everywhere."

"Oh," was all the reply Strongwind had for that. Soon they had used up all of the blocks. "Look! See! There's a doorway that figures can go through!"

"Do you put a roof on it?" Prowl asked as he studied the relatively simple box with its door and one window. The door fascinated him the most. He could _see_ the stresses and balance points that he knew most didn't. At least not in the clearly numbered vectors that he did.

"We don't have anything big enough to use as a roof," Strongwind said. "The blocks don't snap together on the sides."

"We can. Like the door, only bigger," Prowl suggested, using his hands to demonstrate the unusual looking triangular shape the roof would be. "Three or four support triangles, build up the front and back, then put blocks across the supports. I think it would work."

"It'd look weird," the fourth sparkling said, though he was thoughtful about it.

"We can always take it off if it's ugly," the third suggested, then turned to Prowl. "I'm Sidestep. That's Logger."

"Let's give it a try!" Strongwind trilled, grabbing more blocks and beginning to add them.

* * *

"Prowl," Bluestreak called from the doorway, looking into their berthroom. His sparkling was on the floor, playing puzzle games on the special datapad Bluestreak had bought him. "It's time to make goodies."

Prowl perked up instantly, his little wing-nubs fluttering in excitement as he scrambled to his pedes and towards his carrier with an infectious grin he definitely inherited from Bluestreak. Bluestreak grinned back as he scooped up his sparkling, carrying him towards the kitchen and depositing him on a special stool that would allow him to reach everything on the counters. "I take it that goodies are more fun than your puzzles, my love?" he teasingly asked.

"With Carrier is more fun than not," Prowl giggled. "I like to play with you."

"I like playing with you too," Bluestreak returned the giggle, nuzzling his sparkling. "What is the first thing we do when making goodies?"

"Get ingredients!" Prowl said excitedly.

"Yes!" Bluestreak replied, praise in his tone. He had Prowl guide him as he collected energon, gelling agents, and flavoring compounds. They were arranged on the counter in front of the sparkling, next to the bowl Bluestreak had already had in place. "Now what, my love?"

"Wash hands?" Prowl was less certain. "Or get directions?"

"Both of those are good!" Bluestreak replied with a smile. "Do you need help washing your hands?"

Prowl glanced towards the sink and the obstacles between him and it, then shook his helm and stood to make a careful walk over. He balanced on the faucet to turn on the solvent, then ran his hands under it. The scrubbing motion was a mimic of what he'd seen his carrier do.

"That's exactly right," Bluestreak praised, coming over to wash his own hands when his creation was done. They dried their hands and Bluestreak grabbed the directions while Prowl made his way back to the bowl. "Do you want to read the directions, or see if you can remember from last time?"

"I remember," Prowl said with certainty. "I don't forget anything."

"Alright. Though it's always best to double-check, just in case," Bluestreak replied with a smile. "You tell me what you remember, and I'll check the directions to make sure."

Prowl nodded and carefully walked to where he'd been put down originally. "We put flavors in the energon." He pointed to the two cubes of energon and a small selection of liquid or powdered flavorants.

Bluestreak smiled. "What flavor do you want this time?"

Prowl paused, looked across the selection. "One part cyanide and two parts copper. We can sprinkle silicone on top of them. Or iron oxide."

It would make a decidedly bitter treat, but sweet enough. Bluestreak marveled at how much Prowl liked the bitter elements. At first it had worried him, but some research and reassuring kin convinced him that it was just what Prowl liked, not because he lacked something. Unusual, but nothing to worry about. It did speak towards a harsher personality as an adult, but again, nothing to worry about. It was simply what he was.

"And how much of the flavors go into the energon?" Bluestreak asked as he grabbed the energon and poured it into the bowl.

"One cup total per cube," Prowl said after some thinking, and pointed towards the 1/2 cup measuring scoop.

"That is the correct measuring cup, but it is a half cup, not a full cup," Bluestreak corrected gently. "Let's measure out the cyanide and copper, then." Bluestreak smiled gently, moving the two flavors closer so that Prowl could help.

Prowl scowled at the measuring cups, then wiggled his wing-nubs in a shrug and reached for the 1/3 cup to fill with copper. He patted it down, ensuring there was plenty, though a fair handful ended up dusting the counter, the cup, Prowl's hand, chest and face before he was satisfied with the portion.

Bluestreak smiled as the copper was dumped into the mix and Prowl repeated the process again, then a third time for the cyanide. "You're doing very well, love," he praised the sparkling. Prowl grinned up at him and then focused on the pouring and patting the cyanide down that he liked so much. It spilled and dusted everything, but instead of ignoring it Prowl began to lick it off his hands. He made happy clicks at the bitter taste mixed with the sweet tang of the copper.

Bluestreak chuckled at that. "I'll just stir this in while you're licking your hands," he said to the sparkling, adding the flavors to the energon in the bowl and stirring it with a spoon. Once Prowl was done with his hands, he asked for the next direction.

"Is the first gelling compound in it?" Prowl asked.

"We need to add it," Bluestreak said. "How much?"

"One packet per cube," he pointed at the small pile of gelling agents.

"Very good. And what needs to happen after it's added?" Bluestreak asked him opening a packet before handing it to Prowl so that the sparkling could pour it into the bowl.

"You heat it up," Prowl said as he focused on making his hands open the packets and pour the contents carefully into the bowl. "Then the second gelling agent."

"Yes," Bluestreak trilled, taking the bowl over to a heating element, turning it on and stirring the energon as it heated up. "What happens while the energon is heating up?"

"I don't touch," Prowl said dutifully. "I watch you stir."

"And do you know what happens to the gelling agent?" Bluestreak asked gently.

Prowl scrunched his face up, his pale optics dimming as he tried to remember. His features smoothed out after a moment. "It mixes in until it's not visible. Dissolves," he added, though he wasn't completely sure.

"Very good!" Bluestreak praised. He killed the heat and brought the bowl back over to the counter in front of Prowl. "How much of the second agent do we add?"

"Same as the first," Prowl supplied easily. "Two packets," he pointed to the smaller packages of the second component.

"Exactly," Bluestreak said with a smiling, opening the packets for Prowl to add, stirring the mixture. "And then we wait until the energon has cooled some. What do we do while waiting?"

Prowl's wing-nubs twitched, his features blank as a robo-deer caught in headlights.

"I get down the tray so we have someplace to put the goodies after we shape them," Bluestreak supplied, stroking Prowl's back. "Why don't you put some rust and silicon in bowls, so that we can more easily add them to the outside of the goodies?"

"Yes," Prowl responded and reached for a bowl, then poured silicon balls into it. Another bowl was claimed and iron oxide dust was dumped in it, creating a small cloud that coated Prowl and the counter around him.

Bluestreak giggled at that, setting down the tray. "Whoops. That's a bit too much, my love." He reached out and swiped his finger in the rust on Prowl's cheek, then sticking the digit in his mouth.

"Creator likes sweet," Prowl grinned up at him.

"Yes, I do," Bluestreak admitted with a grin. He checked the energon in the bowl. "Okay, it's cooled enough that we can start molding it into shapes. What shapes do you want to make this time?"

"Stars, moon phases, globs," Prowl grinned even more.

Bluestreak giggled and scooped up a bit of congealed energon, handing it to Prowl. "Here you go! First one!"

The sparkling giggled and took the glob, splatting it hard on the counter in front of him and began to push and pull it into a crescent shape of sorts. Despite the efforts to shape the treat, more of the mix ended up on and in the sparkling than in the treat. That was why Bluestreak made such a large batch. He knew that inevitably much if it wouldn't end up in the finished pieces, even if he could make them faster than Prowl. He quickly made several phases of the moon, dipping half in each topping before setting them on the tray.

Prowl did manage to make a few. The shapes weren't very distinct and the coatings were one or the other, but they'd taste just as good and the happiness radiating from the sparkling was well worth all the mess and cleanup for Bluestreak. The time together making memories was just too precious to waste, especially since he had such fond memories of doing this with his creators as a sparkling.

Bluestreak grinned, noting that they were almost out of energon. He picked some up and playfully smeared it on a still-clean portion of Prowl's arm. "Whoops, got some more on you!" he teased.

Prowl's grin was infectious as he grabbed for his carrier with gooey hands, intent on covering him with sticky sweet goo.

Both of them giggled as they devolved into a teasing, tickling wrestling match between carrier and sparkling, getting them both covered with energon and flavored dust. After a couple breems, Bluestreak collapsed on the floor, Prowl on top of him. The sparkling was giggling and making patterns in and with the jelled energon on Bluestreak's chest, oblivious to the time Bluestreak would need to clean everything up as he enjoyed playing with his carrier.

* * *

"Which way we go now?" Strongwind asked, following Prowl. The other sparklings had been bothering Prowl, asking him questions that he had no answer for. So now they were finding a spot where they couldn't find the two of them.

"Up." Prowl pointed to the top shelf. It was empty, being well above even the caretaker's reach. "We climb."

"Okay!" Strongwind replied, wing nubs twitching happily at how high up they would be. They were in one of the storage rooms, and could only faintly hear the sounds of the other sparklings at the center. The climb was hard, and long, and they were both panting and trembling when they reached the spot Prowl had pointed to. It was good though, and Prowl wasn't at all afraid of the height as they pressed close and sank into a much-needed recharge.

Neither were sure how long it had been when the sounds of panic and calling of their designations roused them. Strongwind chirped quietly as he roused, shifting to peer over the edge of the shelf at the sound of his designation. He then looked back at his friend and poked him in the side to help him wake up. "Prowl. Prowl."

"Still tired," Prowl whispered, trying to remain in recharge.

"I heard the caretakers callin' for us," Strongwind whispered back, poking him again. Prowl muttered and curled up more. When the door opened and a caretaker came in, searching for them, Strongwind was peeking over the edge of the shelf. He pulled back quickly, going quiet until the mech left, closing and locking the door behind him. The room was quiet and dark once more.

Strongwind pressed close to Prowl again. "How long until they find us?" he asked the other sparkling, poking him again.

Prowl grumbled as he booted fully and had to _think_. "I don't know. Why does it matter?" he looked at the other sparkling with a bit of a scowl.

"The door made a funny noise after the caretaker left," Strongwind replied. "I think we're stuck in here."

The scowl deepened, but was directed at the door. "We can hear them, they can hear us if we yell."

"Okay," Strongwind said, curling up against Prowl as the younger sparkling sank back into recharge.

They napped for nearly a joor before the was a commotion on the other side of the door, followed by Bluestreak's voice saying, "He's in here."

Prowl's helm popped up even before he finished booting and he chirred at his carrier's voice. The door opened and Bluestreak and two caretakers came in. The caretakers began to search low, commenting about how they'd already searched here. Bluestreak just chuckled as he gazed at the pair peering down from the top shelf. "Look up." Prowl trilled and chirred a greeting as he began to climb down, utterly unafraid of the process or the height that should have terrified a grounder.

"How'd they get up there?" One caretaker gasped, quickly grabbing a stool to retrieve the still-recharging Strongwind.

"By being accomplished climbers," Bluestreak replied, unconcerned. He moved towards Prowl, picking the sparkling up once he was at his carrier's chest level.

"We'll need to figure out how they even got in. These rooms are supposed to be off-limits," the other caretaker said.

"Door opened," Prowl answered, snuggling against his carrier's chest and purring softly. "Then we climbed."

The second caretaker muttered at that, but Bluestreak didn't pay any attention to it. He rubbed Prowl's back, between his wing nubs. "Thank you for watching him," he said to the caretakers, before exiting the center. "Why were you and your friend hiding out in the storage room, my love?" Bluestreak asked his sparkling once outside.

Wing-nubs fluttered unhappily. "The others kept asking about my sire. I couldn't tell them." 

A sharp flash of pain ran through Bluestreak's field before he managed to suppress it. "What were they asking? What questions do _you_ have?"

"Who he is. Then why I didn't know. Why he wasn't with us. How could he leave us." Prowl repeated the questions. "I don't care. They won't stop asking. I have to tell something."

"Sires, a bonded pair," Bluestreak replied quietly. "I met them in Crystal City. By the time I knew I was carrying you, I was back home in Praxus and couldn't contact them." He held Prowl close, nuzzling Prowl more to comfort himself than the sparkling.

"Oh," Prowl accepted that, processed it, then nodded and relaxed. "They weren't Praxian then."

"No, they weren't," Bluestreak confirmed. "They were Crystal City mecha."

"Okay," Prowl nuzzled him, content with the answers he could tell now.

"I love you, my Prowl," Bluestreak said. "If you think of a question, you can ask me."


	3. Attracting a Sponsor

Bluestreak watched anxiously from the observation room as the medic, one far more highly rated that the one that did his upgrades, finished putting the last piece of new armor on Prowl's youngling frame. While this wasn't the most dramatic of the four major upgrades, it was the first that Bluestreak wasn't in control of in any real way.

He wanted everything to go well, but he couldn't help but worry that something would go wrong. At least the medic didn't seem to think anything went wrong. The sensor wings were relaxed and when he turned to look at Bluestreak he smiled in encouragement. It still left the nervous creator all but vibrating when the medic finally joined him.

"He would boot up in a breem or so. It would be good if you join him in the recovery room."

"I want to be with him," Bluestreak replied quietly, sticking close to his creation now that he was allowed to. He could teek that the youngling was beginning to rouse, and as he'd been warned it was a slow process so he took the time to take in the changes. Wing nubs were now clearly going to be Praxian sensor wings, though they didn't yet look like the alt mode doors of an adult. The tiny raised fingerprint on Prowl's forehelm had become a proper chevron shield with the first hints of the chevron horns coming out. Neither had color yet, but that would develop soon.

He smiled, reaching out to run a hand along Prowl's helm as his youngling continued to work through the boot-up process. He was just as beautiful a youngling as he had been as a sparkling, and Bluestreak felt so very blessed to have him.

"Creator," Prowl trilled and smiled up groggily. "Still black?"

Bluestreak chuckled at that, noting the color coming into his armor. "Yes my love, you're still black. How are you feeling?"

"Sore. Everywhere," Prowl whined quietly and tried to reach for his carrier. "Tank's empty. Want to go home."

"He can have some energon," an assistant medic held a cube nearby. "The soreness is normal."

"That look won't work on me," Bluestreak said with a smile, tapping the end of Prowl's nose, but slid an arm under Prowl's shoulders to lift him into a sitting position. "We'll get you some energon, but we're staying until the morning."

Prowl pouted but wiggled his almost door-shaped winglets in relief at having them freed.

Bluestreak gave a grateful smile to the assistant medic that handed him a cube of energon, before offering it to the youngling in his arms. "They have to make sure everything integrates properly. You know that." Once his hand as empty once more, he began to stroke Prowl's back.

The youngling was focused on filling his empty tank, and after the first few sips his field began to mellow. By the time he was done with the small cube, he was relaxed and purring softly at his creator's attention. "Not so sore."

::The energon has a mild neural inhibitor in it,:: the assistant medic commed Bluestreak. ::It will ease the aches and help him recharge, or at least rest tonight.::

"You're staying, right?" Prowl looked up at Bluestreak.

"Of course I will," Bluestreak said with a smile. "They wouldn't be able to drag me out of here."

"Good," Prowl leaned against him a little more as he began to drift off. "Tired."

"Buzz if you need anything," the assistant medic told Bluestreak quietly before slipping out.

"Rest well, my love," Bluestreak said quietly, stroking Prowl as the youngling slipped into recharge.

* * *

"Prowl!" Strongwind cried as he raced up to his friend. "You're back!" Winglets that would one day be full-on wings twitched in a happy-excited greeting.

"Of course I am," Prowl accepted the hug from the other youngling, one who'd been upgraded a few vorns before. "I told you I'd be back today."

"And you've got your upgrades now too! How do they feel?" the light green youngling asked.

"I get a _lot_ of extra input. I finally understand what carrier meant about seeing without optics, kinda," Prowl trilled, wiggling his half-formed sensor wings.

"Isn't it awesome?" Strongwind giggled. "C'mon! We're getting an art lesson today!" He grabbed Prowl's hand, tugging the youngling further into the center. Prowl followed along willingly, his field expressing how much he enjoyed the subject. The two of them scrambled up onto chairs around a youngling-sized table, art supplies already set out in front of them. The caretaker in charge of the activity came around and explained the session's goal: painting a landscape. They could do one from memory, their imagination, or pick one to copy from one of the reference datapads on the table.

Prowl immediately went to work creating a very respectable replica of a garden park near his home, including imperfect but very recognizable renditions of mecha he saw there. The caretaker had to gently remind him several times that his skill would improve with practice.

On one side of him, Strongwind was busy replicating a reference of a place with cliffs and lots of sky. A youngling named Frostline was on Prowl's other side, seemingly making up a landscape out of his imagination. The defining trait seemed to be that everything was colored opposite from what it was in real life.

"Why are you doing that?" Prowl asked, glaring at the offence to his processor the other youngling was making.

Frostline blinked at him, surprised by Prowl's reaction. "'Cause I wanted to and I like that it's different," he replied.

"But it's not _right_ ," Prowl objected, his sensors wings displaying distress more than disdain.

"So? It doesn't have to be," Frostline replied, defending his work.

"Prowl, you okay?" Strongwind asked, reaching over to touch his friend's shoulder, aware of the caretaker coming over at the wing displays.

Prowl looked over at him with a frown, his sensor wings twitching in distress. "It's not _right_."

"'Cause he's coloring things differently?" Strongwind tried to confirm. "Let him color it how he wants. It's not gonna change your picture."

Prowl's features scrunched up, his sensor wings fluttering in distress as he tried to come to terms with the morals his creator and society were instilling in him, and the counter-point his upgraded processor was making that it was important to have things be _right_. The two kept chasing themselves in a loop as he lost track of the outside world in an effort to make the conflict settle.

"Hey, hey Prowl!" Strongwind said, concerned as he shook Prowl's shoulder. "Cybertron to Prowl!"

Prowl's optics cycled a couple times as he was startled out of the processor loop. It took another moment to focus on Strongwind and then a caretaker was kneeling beside him.

"What happened, Prowl?" she said gently.

"Conflict of priorities," he responded on reflex to the authority figure.

"What were the conflicting priorities?" the caretaker asked.

"Respect the opinions of others. Correct what is wrong."

"And what happened that was wrong?" the caretaker asked.

"Frostline's landscape is colored differently," Strongwind replied, his arms going around Prowl.

"In that case, the wrong is not yours to correct and its importance is low enough that you should focus on your own painting instead," the caretaker said soothingly.

Prowl nodded slowly as his processor set new parameters and worked them into his thought process. "How do I know if something is not mine to correct, or if it is important or not?"

"You assess the situation to see if it's an emergency, if you have authority over what's happening, and the long-term impact," the caretaker replied. "What another youngling paints is not an emergency and has no long-term impact on Praxus, and you don't have authority over him."

Prowl thought about that, refined his protocols a bit more and nodded. "All right."

"All will be well, then?" the caretaker asked kindly.

"Yes, caretaker," Prowl told her, then shifted to focus on his painting.

The caretaker smiled and patted his back before moving on. She made a note in the system to alert her when Prowl's creator came to pick him up, so that she could discuss what happened with the mech. It was a behavior change, and it wasn't a good one. It could warn of anti-social personality traits coming out. Such traits needed to be carefully monitored and if gentle training didn't help, a specialist might be needed. She hoped it wouldn't come to that. Prowl had been a sweet sparkling.

* * *

Bluestreak smiled as he and Prowl walked along in the line slowly streaming into the just-opened doors of Praxus' primary concert hall. He was pleased with the timing of Jazz's concert in Praxus. It was close enough that he was able to get tickets in order to celebrate Prowl's upgrades with the chance to see it. Expensive outings such as these were rare, with Bluestreak saving up to pay for Prowl to attend one of the paid schools with his care center friends that were all expected to attain at least a Second Diploma.

Though he had told an excited Prowl that they were going, Bluestreak still had a couple surprises for his creation. The first Prowl would simply realize when they found their seats, ones very close to the front, the last would wait until after the concert. He had no doubt that Prowl would be thrilled to _meet_ his favorite performer. Bluestreak simply hoped that Jazz wouldn't recognize him.

For his part Prowl was alternating between vibrating in place and bouncing up and down, singing some of Jazz's more popular songs. Several mecha around them were smiling at seeing such an excited youngling. His energy was infectious, and a couple times Bluestreak even sang along with Prowl.

Finally, they made it through the doors and into the concert hall itself. "This way, Prowl," Bluestreak gently corrected when the youngling turned to head towards the upper, cheaper seats. Instead Bluestreak guided him down along the corridor leading to the lower level seats, to the entry closest to the stage. He could see the brightness of Prowl's optics as it registered they'd be close enough to be sung _to_ and a squeal of uncontainable joy escaped.

This was extravagant even by Second Diploma standards, at least if his coworker's reactions were anything to go by, but they had also thought it was a wonderful way to celebrate the upgrades to youngling and Prowl's reaction made every credit he spent on the tickets completely worth it. Bluestreak loved his creation more than anything, and loved making him so happy.

"Here's our seats," Bluestreak said with a smile as he matched the numbers on their entrance tickets. Prowl obediently sat where directed, but he was bouncing in the padded seat and trying, with limited success, to control his excitement. He kept reaching over to grip Bluestreak's hand, then let go as his excited quivers got the better of him.

Bluestreak chuckled, sharing his youngling's excitement with quivering sensor wings.

After a couple breems, the lights suddenly went dark. Prowl went still and silent, but Bluestreak could feel his vibrating and the cacophony of joy-excitement in his field. 

There was the explosion of light and sound from the stage as the show started. Music played and Jazz made a dramatic entrance onstage to the roar of the crowd. He was full of energy, full of emotion. He was every bit the talented and skilled performer that all of Cybertron raved about. Even more so, he seemed to have adjusted his concert to take advantage of Praxian sensor wings to enhance the performance. Yet for all that he did, it seemed like no time had passed when he moved to wrap up the show.

Bluestreak smiled down at his creation when he realized that Prowl was all but in a trance and radiating a contentment-joy like nothing Bluestreak had felt from him before. That, even more than Prowl's excitement when he realized how close they would be, made this experience entirely worth it.

Jazz disappeared from stage and the lights came back on. Mecha began to rise from their seats and head for the exit, but Bluestreak gently grabbed Prowl before he could follow.

The dazed youngling looked up at his creator and gave a questioning chirr.

"We're not following the others out," Bluestreak said with a mischievous grin.

"Where are we going?" Prowl asked.

"Backstage," Bluestreak said, waiting until the area had cleared some before guiding Prowl towards the backstage entrance marked for those with passes.

Prowl have a slightly confused trill even as he grew excited again. "We'll see more?"

"We'll get to meet Jazz," Bluestreak replied, anticipating Prowl's reaction to that. There was a stunned moment of silence as Prowl's optics brightened with dawning comprehension and suddenly he squealed eagerly and all but leapt up to embrace his creator's neck.

Bluestreak laughed freely, hugging his creation back. "A good surprise, my love?"

"Amazing. _How_?" Prowl couldn't stop his excited trembling.

"I saved up and purchased them as soon as they went on sale," Bluestreak replied with a smile. "I knew you'd enjoy it."

"So awesome. You're the best creator!" Prowl squealed and hugged him even tighter.

"I'm glad you think so," Bluestreak replied, giving Prowl a kiss on his cheek before setting the youngling back on his pedes and getting in line. It was less than a breem before they were showing a security guard their passes and being escorted into a backstage prep room with a few other mecha. After everyone with passes were in, Jazz burst into the room, as full of energy as Bluestreak had seen him. He could hear Prowl's little squeals and clicks of ecstatic shock and how the youngling was vibrating, and was proud of him for keeping it to a reasonable volume for the settling. He let that happiness and pride flow through his field where his hand resting on Prowl's shoulder, silently letting Prowl know.

Jazz worked his way through the group. Pictures were taken with each mech or group, autographs given, and the performer took the time to talk to each of them like they were long-lost friends. As the performer got close to them, Bluestreak pulled Prowl's favorite music datapad out of his subspace and handed it to the suddenly nervous youngling.

Prowl stepped forward with a shy smile and quivering sensor wings and held up the datapad.

"Hello!" Jazz greeted the youngling enthusiastically, dropping down on a knee to be closer to Prowl's height. "What's your name? And you just got your upgrades! Am I right?" He gave Prowl a wink, and glanced up at Bluestreak for the confirming nod.

"I'm Prowl and yes, I just got upgraded," he managed not to stammer. "The concert was amazing."

"Thank you," Jazz replied with a grin. "What was your favorite part?"

"The way you modulate the harmonics and frequencies," Prowl brightened with an eager smile. "It feels amazing to process the sound and vibrations."

"Yeah? You're one smart youngling to be pickin' up on those!" Jazz said with a grin. ::What's his favorite subject?:: the performer asked Bluestreak over a short-range comm burst.

::Puzzles and strategy games,:: Bluestreak replied, pride in his comm voice.

Jazz took Prowl's datapad and wrote a quick ditty on the back, a common Praxian one that he modified into a bit of a puzzle for the youngling before adding his signature. "Are you excited to be starting school soon?"

"Oh yes!" Prowl's little sensor wings waved eagerly. "There's so much to learn, so many things to do. Did you enjoy school? Is that where you learned to compose and sing?"

"I enjoyed school very much! And I started learning about music in school, though I had special lessons in it to expand upon what my school taught. Tell you what," Jazz said, leaning in close as if sharing a secret. "There are puzzles everywhere in school, if you look. From the way histories fit together, to mathematics and the sciences, and even the way your classmates behave. Find the puzzle, and no subject will be boring."

"I'll remember!" Prowl squealed his promise, everything in him thrilled by the attention and learning that the star performer loved some of the same things he did. "I want to be just as good at my function as you are at yours."

"Then you'll be very good indeed!" Jazz said with a grin, handing Prowl the datapad back. "Now, let's get a picture with your creator, okay?" He motioned Bluestreak to join them and picked up Prowl with ease so the three of them could easily fit in a picture. One of the workers was already in position so he could take it for them. At that range, Prowl's ecstatic joy, pure and uncomplicated by interface protocols, was a sweet relief for Jazz and a wonderful joy for his creator.

The moment was over all too soon and Jazz knelt to put Prowl down.

"Thank you so much," Bluestreak murmured to the performer, shaking Jazz's hand as the mech rose while Prowl smiled brilliantly up from his creator's side with the datapad clutched to his chestplates.

"No, thank you for coming," Jazz replied with a smile, and then he was moving on.

* * *

Prowl focused everything he had on keeping his sensor wings steady to not show his nervousness. While he was looking forward to being in school and the more intensive learning situation it represented, it also represented the new and unknown that his youngling processors did not like on a level that being left at the sparkling center never generated. He wasn't afraid, but he was anxious.

"Prowl!" came a familiar voice across the campus. "Prowl! Prowl!" It was the only warning he had before he was tackled in an exuberant hug. 

He couldn't quite stop the startled squeak before he relaxed into the flier's grip. "Hello Strongwind."

"You're here! We're at the same school!" Strongwind bounced excitedly. "Which class are you in? I'm with Insight!"

"Of course I am," Prowl twitched his small sensor wings in amusement. "I told you I was accepted to start here."

"Yeah, but your creator _coulda_ put you in a different school last-breem," Strongwind replied, hanging onto Prowl's hand. "Who's your teacher? Are we in the same class too?"

"My primary instructor is Know All." Prowl told him, and Strongwind immediately wilted. "Who is not yours."

"Awww. At least we should be able to spend play-breaks together," Strongwind said. "C'mon, let's explore before we gotta be at our classes!"

"Okay," Prowl twitched his small sensor wings in agreement. "I read all about what's here. My creator was very happy when I was accepted. What do you want to check out first?"

"Let's look at what's near the play area!" Strongwind said enthusiastically.

"Okay, but no going past the irontrees or crystal spines," Prowl said firmly as they headed towards the open area beyond the buildings where there were playsets.

"What about climbing up into them? I'm sure we'd get a great view of the whole school!" Strongwind said, wings twitching excitedly.

"There are playsets to climb on," Prowl countered.

"They're not as much of a challenge, and we can probably get higher in the irontrees!" Strongwind countered.

"I'd rather not get in trouble before my first class even begins," Prowl said warily. "Even if it is fun."

"Oh c'mon! Who gets in trouble for climbing irontrees? I bet they won't even notice!" Strongwind urged.

"It's against the rules," Prowl said firmly. "Creator had to work _hard_ to get me into this school. I'm not going to be expelled."

"They're not going to expel you for climbing irontrees, Prowl," Strongwind replied.

"Not going to risk it. Climb if you want. I won't be there," Prowl stopped, determined to stay out of trouble, even by proxy.

"Awww. Then where do you want to explore?" Strongwind asked, disappointed that Prowl was so adamant against climbing.

"I want to find the classrooms and library." Prowl said. "I know you don't. I don't mind exploring the playground. Just not breaking rules."

"Climbing an' finding new places with you is fun," Strongwind replied. "Let's find the library, then."

Prowl's small sensor wings flicked in surprise, but he nodded and started to walk towards the large school building. "Okay."

They managed to find the library, and spent several breems exploring the layout before the first bell rang, warning them that they needed to find their classrooms. It wasn't hard, since all they had to do was follow the stream of same-aged younglings to the next floor. Each classroom had a large sign with easily-read glyphs stating the name of the teacher. Strongwind gave Prowl a hug once they found the one with Know All's name, before leaving to find Insight's. 

The mech that had to be Know All was inside the classroom, helping students find their seats. Each small desk had a nameplate on it, the glyphs designed to be easily read by younglings. Prowl was quick to find his, placed near the outer edge and halfway back. It wasn't where he wanted to be, but he didn't make a fuss as he watched the others, both those he knew and those he didn't, settle in.

A larger youngling without sensor wings slid into the seat next to Prowl. "Hi," he said quietly, shyly. "I'm Trailbreaker."

"Prowl," he responded on reflex, taking in the odd looking frame. "Where are your creators from?"

"Carrier and Sire-Blaze are Praxian. Sire-Crosscut is from Uraya," Trailbreaker replied with the resignation of someone who was asked that a lot, and not always believed.

"Your build is like those from Uraya?" Prowl asked, going for the obvious option first.

"Yes," Trailbreaker replied softly. "I look a lot like Sire-Crosscut."

Prowl twitched his sensor wings in understanding and relaxed, pleased to have a fairly quiet, calm field next to him.

Trailbreaker gave him a small smile, happy to be next to someone that wasn't automatically rejecting him because he didn't _look_ Praxian. Then Know All spoke up, calling the class to attention so that they could begin.

* * *

"Bet I can get across the swinging bars faster than you!" Strongwind cried as he and Prowl played during recess. They had been in school for two metacycles and were loving it. On playbreaks, all of the younglings were encouraged to go outside and play physical games, so that they could stretch their bodies and burn off their energy. Even Prowl, one of the more serious and quiet ones in class, enjoyed the time outside, racing around with friends and classmates.

"You never stop trying," Prowl clicked at him and lunged up to grab the swing bars.

"We'll see!" Strongwind laughed as he launched himself up and began swinging.

"Hey! D1-er! You don't belong here!" one of the younglings at the other end of the bars called out. Two of his friends flanked him, mantling their winglets.

"Yeah! Go back to the slums an' stop mucking up our school!" the one on the left added.

Prowl, rather predictably, ignored them. He worked to the end of the swing bars and then made a twist with surprising dexterity to turn around on them.

"Go away, Windchill!" Strongwind replied, turning and following Prowl back.

The third sparkling ran to the other end of the bars to cut them off. "What'd your creator have to do to get you in, huh D1-er? No way he could afford it with credits!"

"Since he is a First Responder, yes he can," Prowl relaxed and finished the distance to the lone bully, gave a full body swing and landed behind him. He came close enough to clip a sensor wing on the way down with his pede, while his own fanned out to avoid contact.

"Ow! Hey, watch it, stupid!" the youngling cried out, tackling Prowl. Windchill and their friend rushed over.

"Leave him alone! He's got as much a right to be here as everyone else!" Strongwind cried, racing to his friend's aid even as he saw Prowl punch the youngling on top of him in the throat. He'd seen variants of that serious look before, but never associated with violence.

"No one does that to 'Striker!" Windchill cried, piling on Prowl as the youngling howled. Strongwind grabbed the ringleader of the bullies, trying to yank him back.

Suddenly, Trailbreaker was _there_ , helping shove the bullies off Prowl with his greater mass and longer reach. "No fighting!"

"Stop!" One of the instructors yelled as he came running over, drawing the attention of two others. "What happened?" he demanded as he helped Prowl to his pedes and checked him over for damage. As the one on the bottom, Prowl was scuffed and dented, but it was the knee-print on the flat of his barely-armored sensor wing that had everyone's attention.

"Windchill an' them were saying that Prowl shouldn't be here, an' were blocking us in on the bars! And then Faststrike tackled Prowl when Prowl jumped down!" Strongwind explained furiously.

"Prowl hit me on the sensor wing first! And then punched me!" Faststrike said angrily.

"He punched you after you tackled him," Strongwind snapped back.

"How did he hit you on the sensor wing?" the instructor asked firmly as he looked over the youngling and noted where the damage was.

"His pede hit my wing when he jumped down," Fasttrike scowled.

"Where were you standing?" The instructor pressed.

"Right there," Faststrike pointed.

"And why were you standing there when another youngling was ready to come down?" the instructor asked pointedly.

"We were talkin' to him and he was ignoring us!" Faststrike replied.

"Insulting him you mean," Strongwind corrected with a hiss.

"So you decided that breaking the safety rules was the correct response to being ignored, and then assaulted another when you were accidentally damaged because you were standing where you should not have been," the instructor looked less than pleased. "If you do that when you are older you will end up in a detention cell."

"He still punched me! I didn't punch him!" Faststrike cried out.

"Prowl, do you deny punching Faststrike?" the instructor focused on Prowl for a moment, startling the youngling out of his daze.

"No. I jumped down. My pede caught Faststrike's sensor wing edge. Faststrike jumped on me and knocked me down. I hit him. Windchill stepped on my sensor wing. Racer pinned my hands. Strongwind tried to get Windchill off me. Trailbreaker pulled Faststrike and Racer away. You yelled at everyone to stop." Prowl recited events quietly before swaying a bit despite the tweak the instructor had given his sensor wing joint so he didn't feel much of the pain.

"Trailbreaker, do you have anything to add?" the instructor asked.

"They were looking to pick a fight with him, Instructor," Trailbreaker said softly.

"What about you, Strongwind?"

"We were playing just fine until they came along," Strongwind said hotly. "We were bein' good an' trying to get away from them."

"Faststrike, Prowl, come with me to the medic's office. Racer and Windchill, go with Metric to the Vice Principal's office. Everyone else can return to play."

"Yes, sir," Windchill and his friends said dutifully, wings lowered unhappily.

"Yes, sir," Trailbreaker said softly.

Strongwind didn't reply, but his wings quivered as he looked at Prowl, his field teeking distinctly unhappy at his friend getting in trouble.

* * *

Bluestreak had to struggle not to speed as he headed for the school in the middle of his shift. Quickfix had been nice enough to let him go, but he was under no illusions that it had better not become a regular occurrence. Despite the threat to his job, all Bluestreak could think about was that his precious creation had been damaged. They wouldn't tell him much over the comm, but there had been an altercation and Prowl had been in the middle of it.

As soon as he arrived, he was ushered into the Vice Principal's office. Prowl was there, as was another youngling and the youngling's creators.

"Thank you for coming so quickly, Bluestreak," Vice Principle Beeline said. "I'm sorry you had to be pulled from work. These are Defthand and Corkscrew. Their creation Faststrike was involved in an altercation with Prowl during one of the play breaks."

Despite the words, Bluestreak felt himself locked into emergency responder mode and immediately moved to check his creation for damage. Scuffs and minor dents didn't bother him. Prowl had far worse from solo activities. The distinctive dent in the flat of the right sensor wing was another matter. "Is the blocker working?" he asked.

"Yes, creator." Prowl responded seriously. "Medic Quickfix did everything right."

Bluestreak couldn't help but smile slightly at that, then focused in on the other youngling. Faststrike was scuffed all over, with a ding on the edge of his wing and a dent on his throat. Still, the youngling stared back at him defiantly. It was only noted very distantly noted in Bluestreak's processor as he straightened and faced Beeline. "What happened?"

"Faststrike and two other younglings put themselves in Prowl's way to insult him. Prowl's attempt to get away caused him to clip a sensor wing, and then Faststrike attacked. Prowl punched him, and all the younglings piled on him," Beeline recounted what he had been told. "Fighting, for any reason, is not allowed," he said firmly. "Now, as Prowl was acting in self-defense, we will only put a note in his file to mark what has happened. However," now his attention turned to the other family. "Bullying is completely unacceptable. All students are of equal value. Faststrike needs to learn that, and learn it well."

Bluestreak nodded, his worry eased as he put a hand on Prowl's shoulder for support. A mark wasn't good, but at least this one was not the kind that could ruin a mech.

Defthand and Corkscrew scowled, and Defthand gave Bluestreak a look of disgust, but they didn't speak out.

"For fighting with another student, Firststrike will be suspended for three orns." Beeline gave said youngling's creators a stern look. "I trust we will not have a repeat of today, or the consequences will increase proportionally."

"It will not," Corkscrew said firmly. "Fighting is not how to solve problems."

"Good," Beeline nodded. "I think we're done here then. Thank you all for coming."

Bluestreak nodded and collected Prowl, cooing at his strong, brave creation. "I'll comm you with what the hospital says about repairing his sensor wing if he'll need to be out of school tomorrow," he promised Beeline before leaving.

* * *

::Bluestreak, my office.:: Quickfix's ping startled Bluestreak during a lull in the orn's calls.

::I'll be right there, sir,:: Bluestreak replied immediately. He set aside the cleaning project he'd been working on, and headed for the captain's office. He was quietly relieved when he saw a smile on Quickfix's faceplates. The news must be good, or at least not bad.

"Have a seat," Quickfix motioned to the chair across from his desk. "I'm sure you're aware that your creation is quite advanced for his age."

"Oh, yes," Bluestreak replied, his field full of pride in his creation. One of the few problems he'd had with Prowl was simply finding ways to keep up with the youngling's intelligence and desire to learn. He kept outpacing his classmates in all the subjects, which often left him bored in class and had lead to some social issues. Bluestreak had done his best to enroll Prowl in ever more advanced classes, but it was difficult to afford advanced diploma prep courses on a single Second Diploma income, even with the help his uncle gave him with charging so little rent.

"Your efforts to distinguish him have paid off. Lord Everthrall has requested to meet both of you tonight," Quickfix's smile broadened. "Prowl's earned an offer of a sponsor."

Bluestreak's sensor wings perked up at that. It would be so much easier getting Prowl the education help he needed with a sponsor. "That's great news! How did the message come in? When and where are we supposed to meet him? Prowl will be thrilled when he hears!"

"A messenger delivered it this morning," Quickfix smiled warmly. "Joor thirty-two at the Ringall. Bring Prowl, and I recommend you spend the credits for a good quality professional detailing to look good. It's a _nice_ place. Nobles often go there."

Bluestreak nodded eagerly, already looking up shops where they could get such a detailing, as well as figuring out the timing of getting off-shift, picking Prowl up, and getting the detailing before they needed to be at the restaurant. "Thank you so much, sir!"

"I hope this works out. Lord Everthrall is known to be very generous to those he sponsors and their creators," Quickfix smiled. "Now get back to work and try to focus on your job," he teased.

"You expect me to be able to concentrate after telling me that?" Bluestreak teased back, grinning. "I will, though."

* * *

Bluestreak's sensor wings quivered as he led Prowl towards the restaurant. Prowl had been excited but slightly confused to learn that they were going to meet with a potential sponsor. He understood it was a good thing, but not really why.

It had been a tight time fit, but Bluestreak had managed to get them an appointment at a detailer's between Prowl's school and the restaurant. Now, both were gleaming. Bluestreak hadn't been this clean since his time in Crystal City, and this was the cleanest Prowl had ever been. It had been so very pricey, but hopefully credits would no longer be so tight if Lord Everthrall extended his sponsorship. No longer needing to pay for Prowl's education would be a huge windfall. The basics had been manageable, but with Prowl taking ever more advanced courses it was now consuming over forty percent of Bluestreak's paycheck.

Bluestreak guided Prowl in and the host greeted them by designation with a formal smile and showed them to a small table where effervescent energon was already waiting for them. Also waiting was a non-Praxian noble of rich red and blues.

"Excellent," Lord Everthrall inclined his helm to them as they sat and the host left. "I like punctual mecha."

"Thank you for inviting us, Lord Everthrall," Bluestreak said formally, his wings in a respectful cant. "As I'm sure you know, I am Bluestreak, and this is my creation Prowl."

"Yes," he smiled at the attentive youngling watching him. "Prowl has quite an impressive scholastic record that is going in a direction I wish to support. There are too few exceptional mecha that go into public service. The Enforcers would be a very good fit for him. Officer rank would come quickly."

"I'm very proud of him, and as I'm a public servant myself I was thrilled with his interest," Bluestreak replied with a smile. Love and pride filled the field that brushed against Prowl, something the youngling received from his creator every orn but was still relished and accepted with joyful pride. Prowl, no matter how steady he acted, craved approval on a level that occasionally worried his creator. "It can be a challenge for myself and his teachers to keep up with how quickly he goes through the courses."

"With my support, that would no longer be an issue," Everthrall offered with a slight smile as their meal was delivered. "The best education and upgrades credits can buy are easily available. I have no doubt that Prowl is capable of achieving at least one Sixth Diploma before I would expect him to enter the workforce."

"If his current studies are any indication, he should easily be able to multiple Sixth Diplomas," Bluestreak agreed as they began their meal, relying on the rules of etiquette he learned for the rare expensive restaurants he had been treated to in Crystal City. Etiquette that he had made sure Prowl had learned, even if it wasn't used every day. "It would make me very happy to see him have the opportunity to reach his full potential."

"Excellent," Everthrall smiled. "Beyond tuition and tutoring, what assistance would benefit him?"

"I can think of several other things that could be helpful, though I do have a question first," Bluestreak said. "What is it that you are looking for in return for all you would be investing in him?"

The noble smiled faintly. "I will expect favors once he is established in his career."

Bluestreak went tense, though he couldn't be surprised by the answer other than the honesty of it. Prowl stopped eating at the tension in his creator and looked up, his small sensor wings wiggling with concern.

"What kind of favors?" Bluestreak managed to ask, torn between protecting his creation from potential harm and giving him an opportunity far beyond their means.

"Information, giving priority to projects I deem valuable. The exact nature of it would depend on what function he enters," Everthrall hummed. "I won't ask anything illegal of him."

Bluestreak began to relax. So long as the favors were not illegal, he could live with it. As much as the First Responder wished these offers would be given from the good of mecha's sparks, he knew very well that the world did not work that way. "Those are acceptable," he said. "As far as what would be helpful for Prowl beyond education... Assistance with his upgrades, as well assistance with living in a location and lifestyle comparable to his peers would certainly be beneficial. Once he has a better idea of where his career will go, introductions to others who can also assist his career through advice and connections would also be very helpful."

"Easily arranged," Everthrall was happy to agree. "I will arrange for an agent to show you suitable homes when you are off shift until you find one you like. You can expect a basic questionnaire about your preferences and needs so he can narrow the search by morning. I will pay for the location directly and provide an account to cover other expenses. I would recommend a social tutor for you both from those funds," he paused to sip his energon. "The less obvious it is you are living outside your upbringing the easier it will be for Prowl to integrate into the higher levels of society. There are expenses associated with being in Fourth or Fifth Diploma circles that I would be surprised if you would be aware of."

Next to him, Bluestreak could teek Prowl's desire to ask, but the youngling was well mannered enough not to speak up.

The responder nodded agreeably before looking at his creation. "Prowl? Do you have a question? This involves you too," he invited the youngling, saving his own further questions to see what his were.

"Lord Everthrall, will I remain in my current school?" Prowl asked very politely.

The noble smiled gently at him. "Until you graduate, yes. You have not yet advanced to the stage where special schools are critical. Your creator selected well when he placed you where he did for your basic education."

Bluestreak's field was full of warm pride as it brushed Prowl's, for the youngling's manners and intelligent question. He was certainly pleased with the fact that Prowl would get to remain with his current friends, at least for the time being. Bluestreak then turned his attention back to Lord Everthrall. "How much pressure will there be for me to look the part for his sake? I will always have markings that advertise my function and rank, unless I change functions. Those same will likely not match up with the lifestyle we will be living, unless I make a large jump in rank."

"I won't lie, it would be advantageous for Prowl if you did not stand out quite so much. However that is not a demand I will make," Everthrall told him. "My sponsorship is not going to be much of a secret. Such things do not remain hidden for long. As new as you are to your function, the simplest response may be to take a few centuries off until Prowl had finished his education."

"I'm not sure how well I would do, taking a few centuries off," Bluestreak admitted. "It's a function that suits me very well, for all it's not one I even gave thought to as a youngling."

"That will be a choice for you to make. Prowl will advance far enough either way," Everthrall responded despite the confusion evident in the cant of his wings. "The income you bring in as a first responder will make little difference to the allowance you will have from me."

"The difference in income is not what concerns me," Bluestreak replied calmly, knowing he had no way to make Lord Everthrall understand the world he came from and fairly certain he didn't need to. The Lord had already said it was up to Bluestreak, which was what really mattered to him.

Everthrall canted his wings in acceptance of the statement and let it be and sipped at his energon. "Do you have any concerns you wish to address now?"

"Nothing I can think of right now, Lord Everthrall," Bluestreak said, hoping the implication that he would have some later came through to the noble.

Everthrall canted his wings in acceptance and they moved on to small talk and talk of Bluestreak's life, family and Prowl's school until they finished the meal and parted company. When Bluestreak transformed Prowl climbed inside, his field moody and thoughtful, but of the frequency that indicated he wasn't ready to talk yet. Bluestreak hoped that whatever Prowl was thinking, he would come to his creator with it eventually.

* * *

Six vorns after Bluestreak accepted the sponsorship for Prowl there was a grand family gathering. Something they only did once every twenty vorns. Even with everyone quietly chipping in it was an expensive thing for the family leaders, a triad that Bluestreak was proud to call his great, great grand-creators. This gathering he'd used some of his savings and bought as much of the energon and supplies as they'd allow him to. There would be plenty for everyone, extra treats and enough for everyone to take home a family meal's worth. It would even be of a slightly higher quality than they were used to, though not enough to be too extravagant. He didn't want to show off, just do a small part to spread his own good fortunes to the rest of the family.

He and Prowl arrived early so that he could help chip in with getting everything prepared. There was always a lot to do to prepare for such a large gathering, and it gave the First Responder a chance to be with the family that he didn't see nearly as much as he wished.

"You are looking _very_ fine," Nightstreak commented as he peered at the pair with unusual intensity. He was a courier by function, unlike Bluestreak, who'd only done it as a job. Built lighter than most of the family, he was also one of the few who had more than a First Diploma.

"Thank you, Grandcreator," Bluestreak replied with a smile. "This is becoming our new normal, though it still feels a bit odd to me."

"Ah, so still no prospective co-creator for little Prowl," Nightstreak sounded disappointed. "I had hoped that your help meant you would bring a guest."

"I've been too focused on my work and making sure Prowl's needs are met to spend time looking for romance," Bluestreak said. It was mostly true, and easier than admitting that he no longer trusted himself when it came to seeking out such companionship. "I merely have had good fortunes and wanted to share. How are Bluewave and Greenspot? What still needs to be done?"

"Oh they are doing very well," Nightstreak smiled warmly at the mention of his bonded mates. "I hope you find that love one orn. It'll be good for you. Why don't you help Mindstreak and Bluelight set up the youngling area with that delightful bitlet of yours?"

"Of course, Grandcreator," Bluestreak smiled back, giving the older mech a hug before leading Prowl further inside, to the room that was traditionally set aside for the younglings and sparklings. Prowl, as always, waited quietly for directions and followed them with great dedication.

Mindstreak and Bluelight had already gotten much done, so it was really more a matter of putting out the toys, grouped by age range. The adults fell into easy banter, Bluestreak teasing Mindstreak about not being able to talk about his work, and Bluelight teasing her creation in turn.

"Prowl!" Airstream's voice chirped a warning to his cousin just in time for Prowl to brace for the impact of the greeting hug.

The older youngling was always excited to see him, sensor wings twitching with his enthusiasm. "How have you been? How's school? Do anything fun at school?"

"I'm doing well. School is interesting. I find it fun," Prowl responded. "I'm two levels more advanced than most of my peers."

"What do they do? Have you in a class with older younglings? Or leave you with your friends and give you your own assignments?" Airstream asked curiously.

"I have some classes with my agemates. Other classes are with older younglings. For law and debate I'm with mechlings in a different school," Prowl explained.

"Wow! That's amazing!" Airstream said, optics bright. "Do you try to keep all of your classmates straight? How do you get between the schools?"

"So far I haven't had any trouble remembering who everyone is," Prowl twitched his small sensor wings in surprise at the idea that he might. "There's a mecha, an employee of Lord Everthrall, that takes me."

"Who's Lord Everthrall?" Airstream asked, as another youngling entered the room.

"My sponsor," Prowl answered. "He's paying for my education and so I can look like I belong there."

"Hey Prowl! What are you looking so fancy for?" Finemist, the newcomer, asked curiously.

"It's expected of me at school and by the adults I need to impress," Prowl answered the cousin he only sort of knew.

"Isn't that expensive?" Finemist pointed out. "I don't think my creators could afford it."

"Cousin Bluestreak has a Second Diploma," Airstream pointed out. "He can afford stuff our creators can't, even on just the credits he makes."

"Part of being a sponsor is providing the credits so your sponsored fits in," Prowl added. "Lord Everthrall pays for a lot of things."

"That's so cool!" Airstream bounced.

"What else does he pay for?" Finemist asked, both curious and a bit offput by the admission.

"Where we live and my upgrades," Prowl tried to think of what he knew about. "Creator refused quite a few things too."

Airstream's optics went wide. "He refused things? What did he refuse?"

Prowl thought back to the conversations and what he knew for sure. "Funds for his own education, upgrades for himself, credits so he didn't have to work, promotions. Anything a Lord can make happen."

"Oh wow! I can't imagine refusing those!" Airstream exclaimed. 

"Why's Lord Everthrall offering all of this?" Finemist asked.

Prowl looked at the other youngling seriously. "For the favors I'll be able to provide once I'm educated and have some rank in my function."

"Isn't that a bad thing, though?" Airstream's sensor wings quivered with worry. "He could ask you to let a criminal go, or arrest someone who didn't do anything wrong."

"It's not a good thing," Prowl agreed. "Bluestreak made him promise he wouldn't ask for anything illegal. Both those things are illegal."

"At least he promised that," Airstream said, wings drooping a bit.

"How big is the home he's given you?" Finemist asked.

Prowl gave a calculating look around the room and checked his memory before answering. "Six times the size of Nightstreak's."

"Wow!" Airstream exclaimed. "I think that's the biggest home in the family! Can we see it some time?"

"Would the family even be _allowed_ to visit?" Finemist asked. "If you're supposed to keep up appearances and all, wouldn't it look bad for us to be seen there?"

"I don't know," Prowl admitted before chirping to catch Bluestreak's attention. "Can kin visit us, Creator?"

"Not everyone at once," Bluestreak smiled at him. "But yes, we can have kin over."

"Cool!" Airstream squealed. "I'm gonna ask my creators about it!"

"I'm looking forward to it," Prowl smiled. "You can meet some of my friends too. Those that like me don't care that I have D1 kin."

"Prowl!" Bluestreak corrected his creation sharply, horrified to hear such a term out of the normally proper and respectful youngling.

Prowl immediately cringed, his little sensor wings going down and flat to his back. "Sorry Creator."

"I better not hear that from you again," Bluestreak said, with a firmness that he rarely needed to use with Prowl.

Airstream's sensor wings had reflexively dropped as well. "But there are also lots who wouldn't like us at your schools."

"They are my friends though," Prowl pointed out as he slowly, cautiously came out of his submissive cringe. "My friends don't care or they wouldn't like me."

"Would they want to meet me?" Airstream asked, his own sensor wings rising at the possibility of meeting more friends.

Prowl cocked his helm. "Why wouldn't they?"

Airstream shrugged. "Just 'cause they're okay with your family doesn't mean they'd want to meet us."

"Oh," Prowl didn't hide that he didn't really understand the logic. "If you don't want to risk it, I can make sure they don't come over that orn."

"No, I wanna meet 'em!" Airstream countered, sensor wings fluttering.

"Okay," Prowl agreed. "I'm looking forward to it. I've met some good mecha."

Bluestreak smiled as more younglings and sparklings filtered in, the group playing together and renewing the bonds of kin. Even though he was achieving something beyond what his cousins had access to, Prowl still had his place in this group, the next generation of the family. He was still one of them, and always would be.

Eventually everyone was called to eat, the adults at one large table, the younger members at another. It was very familiar, and comforting in its familiarity. Bluestreak missed this in the new condo. That place was so large and empty compared to what Bluestreak was used to... This was warm, full of life. 

It seemed like all too soon that the meal was over, but before a new shift of adult caretakers herding the sparklings and younglings back to their play area Bluelight clicked for attention.

"It is not news to anyone that Sledgehammer has been courting us for some time," she motioned to her lover. "Stillvoice and I have decided that it is time for us to acknowledge that we are all ready to form a triad in law and spark."

Bluestreak joined in the cheer that went up around the room at the long-awaited announcement. He had seen how serious the three were about each other, and was very glad that his creators could complete their triad with a mech that made them so happy.

After the expected cheers and while the well-wishes were going on, the caretakers of the joor herded the youths from the room ...and Firelight came up to Bluestreak. He was one of Bluelight's generation and had an insatiable love of gossip. He wasn't one of Bluestreak's favored uncles. "So Bluestreak, did you know they'd be announcing it tonight?"

"I was pretty sure of it," he twitched a wing in a shrug of sorts.

"And what about you? Gonna follow in their footsteps and bring us home a mech or two?" Firelight grinned at him.

Bluestreak shrugged again. "When I find someone worth it."

"Oh come on, you have to tell me there's some mech out there for you," Firelight insisted. "Prowl deserves to have a co-creator, even if it's not his sire."

"He deserves someone _worthy_ of it too, not just a warm frame," Bluestreak actually snapped at his elder. "I deserve someone who cares about us too."

Firelight's sensor wings snapped up in surprise at Bluestreak's tone. "I wasn't saying you don't."

"If you expect me to take in someone _now_ , that is what you're saying," Bluestreak settled, though only just barely. "I'm no better at picking dating material than I was before I left."

"With all the good mecha in Praxus? There has to be someone that will care for you as family does," Firelight countered. "Ask for help and you know you'll get it."

"Not soon," Bluestreak shook his helm. "Not with where I live and the income I make. It's just energon miners looking at me now. Family couldn't hook me up well when my prospects were normal. Now? No one anyone knows is going to see Prowl first, or even me. I'm doing this for his future. I can manage by myself until he's an adult and I'm back in a normal neighborhood."

Firelight's hand came up to rest on Bluestreak's shoulder. "I'm sorry you feel like that's all you'll be seen as."

A small shrug was all he could manage for reply. He didn't like thinking about the truth, or the even more painful truth that the mecha he loved, the only ones to treat him nicely, had rejected him. He didn't want to think about that lesson. That kindness was a payment as much as credits were. "Once Prowl's settled in his function I'll look again." 

Look again, only this time look knowing that he was looking for someone he was paying to be focused on his desires. Prowl was simply too perceptive by half to have someone like his previous lovers in the house. The only adult he'd ever hissed and rattled his little sensor wings at was the last mech Bluestreak had brought home. One of those energon miners, and one with a controlling nature on top of it. They both deserved far better than that.


	4. The First Hints of Trouble

Bluestreak smiled at the excitement vibrating his creation's sensor wings. Ever since his mechling upgrades a decaorn earlier Prowl had shown far less emotion than Bluestreak expected, but this was a good sign. Not even picking out his first alt mode had garnered as much excitement as Bluestreak remembered in his own first choice, and he hadn't had nearly the choices that Prowl had. There had been a small flutter of pleasure when Prowl took in his new appearance, a mixture of black and silver like his creator, but with far more extensive highlights of red and gold.

That Prowl was quivering over the prospect of his first race relieved Bluestreak to no end that whatever caused his already quiet creation to become even more subdued hadn't ruined this. No Praxian deserving of the title didn't _love_ to race. If Prowl didn't enjoy this, he really would be ostracized no matter what kind of education or backing he received.

Bluestreak followed as they entered the race track for the first-vorn mechling racing class. Creators were encouraged to watch, but the racing was all mechlings. After the lesson there would be time for creators to join the mechlings on the track.

"Have fun out there," Bluestreak said, unnecessarily.

"I will, creator," Prowl promised with another excited flutter of his sensor wings. All around them there were similar exchanges as the mechlings gathered around the track employee that was conducting the class. As Bluestreak found his seat, Prowl focused on the adult who was responsible for teaching him this skill and doing his best not to glare darkly at those who were too rambunctious for his taste.

"Alright class, quiet down!" the instructor called out. "You don't get to drive until I'm satisfied that you know the rules." As excited as they were, the mechlings quickly quieted down so they could get through the rules as quickly as possible and _race_. "First off, there will be no touching your competitors. That includes no bumping or nudging. Second, pay attention to the indicator lights. If the red warning light is shown, you _will_ come to a stop as quickly as safely possible. It might mean the race is being called off because of a technical glitch, but it also could be because of a serious hazard. If the yellow warning light is on, or if a pacer is on the track, you are frozen in the order you are in. Do not try to pass any of your fellow racers at such time."

The gathering hummed or clicked their understanding and agreement to the rules, so the instructor continued.

"For short sprints, you will line up at the starting line and wait for the green start light to signal the beginning of the race. For long races it will be a moving start. You will be given an order to line up in, follow a pacer around the track, and the starting signal will come on as you approach the starting line and the pacer leaves the track. You will practice both starts in this class, though we will not do the full length of the long races."

"Why not?" someone asked.

"Most mechling frames are not prepared for the endurance required." The instructor answered easily. "No mechling race will be as long as the longer adult races. Anyone else have questions?"

There was a general negative cant to wings and the excited hum of mechlings ready to _move_.

"All right. Then get on the starting line and be ready to follow me around the track," the instructor said firmly as he motioned the score of new drivers to the line. "The first two laps will be paced by myself. Then you can take your first racing laps."

He waited as the excited mechlings scrambled to get behind the line and transformed to take their places. The instructor walked the line, making sure they weren't edging over it. Once he was satisfied, he went to the pacer's start and transformed. "Everyone start your engines!"

A sparkbeat later the instructor pulled forward and the mechlings had to work hard to keep themselves throttled back enough not to gain on him.

In that moment, Prowl felt his focus on the instructor fade away as his new tactical network focused on categorizing the engines of those around him. The quality varied, but he could already hear that his was close to the most powerful for racing and one of the better tuned. The experimental upgrade Lord Everthral had given him made it so easy to pick out and evaluate tiny details he'd never even thought to look for before. It would be a huge advantage in the race, as was the tac-net's ability to analyze the track for the best angles of movement, his speed, momentum and where the other drivers would be at any point in the immediate future.

It was a far more intellectual event than Prowl expected, but as he crossed the starting line for the second time and the race began in earnest he found it as exciting as everyone described. Just not exciting in the same way. The rush of wind, the speed, the strain as he pushed his new frame and processors to adapt and understand and _win_ were all very new to Prowl.

As he was edged out enough that he saw the taillights of the mechling in front of him something clicked in Prowl's processors and his engine roared.

_Catch!_

It wasn't even a glyph, much less a thought.

He was locked on those red lights in front of him and everything faded away as he fought to close the distance with a mechling that was faster and more experienced than he was.

The mechling certainly knew some tricks, doing his best to keep Prowl behind him. However, every move he made only fed more information into Prowl's processors. The tac-net gave him predictions on his next move, and a way for Prowl to pass him.

Prowl didn't even question it when the opening came. He simply took it.

With open track before him that _need_ that drove him faded, leaving him questioning his goals and coding, but not so much that he lost his lead completely before the finish line and the lights and signal sounded the end of the race.

The instructor waited until the entire class had finished before gathering them together to give praise and advice. Then he had them line up at the starting line once more, for them to race in a short sprint that only ran the length of the first straightaway.

Prowl didn't find it nearly as enjoyable, and he didn't place as well on top of that. His alt was intended for a longer, slower build-up to speed. He had power, torque and endurance. He also had more mass than some of the lighter mechlings. In these short runs it was all but pointless to try and he found he didn't do more than was required not to embarrass himself completely.

It was a relief when the instructor switched them back to longer races for practice. However, it was still far too soon when the instructor called an official end to the lesson. Creators streamed down onto the track to join their creations, Bluestreak amongst the first.

"So, how was it?" Bluestreak asked Prowl, grinning widely.

"Extremely enjoyable," he didn't hide the purr in his voice. "The longer races were much more enjoyable. I am not much of a sprinter."

"You certainly were doing well on the longer races," Bluestreak replied, pride rippling through his field. "Want to take a spin around the track and see how you do against someone with a little more experience?" he offered.

"Absolutely." Prowl's sensor wings flared upwards in a stronger showing of eagerness than he'd shown since his upgrades.

The intensity of the reaction pleased Bluestreak, and he transformed to settle at the starting line, with space next to him for Prowl. Once the mechling was at his place and ready, Bluestreak counted down to start them off. He paid attention to his creation's teek, and wasn't sure what to make of how it suddenly smoothed almost completely. It was like nothing he'd teeked or experienced before, and yet there was no doubt that Prowl was very happy to be on the track.

A true racing frame zoomed by them and suddenly everything about Prowl changed. He focused, his field both settled and extremely eager as his engine revved hard and he surged forward after the faster mecha.

Bluestreak watched carefully, even as he struggled to keep up with them. It was something to experience this closely as they drove. In fact, Bluestreak took it as a good sign. Prowl was enthralled. There was no question about it. But Bluestreak wasn't sure he was racing to win. He was trying to catch.

It backed up what he'd seen from the stands. Prowl wasn't a racer. He was a chaser. Which given his already strong interest in becoming an Enforcer wasn't a bad thing. It would serve him well as an Enforcer, and hopefully he still enjoyed racing enough that the difference would go unnoticed, at least enough that he wouldn't be ostracized by his peers.

The pro-racer and his mechling reached the finish line ahead of Prowl and pulled off to transform. Bluestreak and Prowl kept going, though it was obvious to Bluestreak that his mechling wasn't quite as interested now that he was the faster competitor.

"You know, I'm sure Uncle Shatterlight would be willing to race with you if you asked him," Bluestreak commented when they finally pulled off.

"I'd like that," Prowl shivered his armor to settle it. He was still getting used to the larger, heavier frame. "It was fun driving with you, but _racing_ the pro frames was amazing."

"I could feel it," Bluestreak smiled at his creation. "My alt certainly isn't built for speed the way yours is, much less a professional's."

"Prowl!" a voice called out as one of the racer-alt mechlings approached. "That's some good racing you were doing."

"Thank you, Lightpede," Prowl inclined his helm to the other mechling.

"Are you interested in joining the mechling races? You'd do well," Lightpede said, grinning.

Prowl's sensor wings fluttered and he glanced at his creator for permission, openly hopeful to the mech who knew him better than any. Bluestreak nodded his agreement. There was no way he was going to deny Prowl anything that he was expressing such emotions over.

"I would enjoy that," Prowl answered Lightpede, his sensor wings shivering faintly in anticipation. "When does it begin?"

"There's one tomorrow, after the professional races are done," the other mechling replied, pinging Prowl the specifics on it. "It's mostly those of us who want to go pro, but I'm sure you'd be able to hold your own," Lightpede purred.

"Thank you," Prowl's sensor wings fluttered more than his tone showed, but there was no clue that he recognized the flirting for what it was. "I will come."

Lightpede's sensor wings fluttered in pleasure at the promise. "I'll be expecting you."

Prowl inclined his helm slightly and shifted his attention to Bluestreak. "I need to begin my studies early today if I will have time to race tomorrow."

"Alright then," Bluestreak agreed. "Let's get home so you can work on that."

Prowl fell silent but in good spirits as he followed his creator from the large racetrack arena.

Bluestreak led him onto the streets, and pinged him once they were driving on a main road. ::You know he was flirting with you, right?::

Prowl wavered slightly before settling on Bluestreak's bumper again. ::No. Why would he have done that?::

::He finds you attractive. You're good looking, and raced well for a first lesson. Both are what would interest a future racer,:: Bluestreak explained.

Prowl was silent for long kliks as he processed that. ::Should I not go to the race if I do not return his interest?::

::You can still go if you wish to race,:: Bluestreak replied. ::Just be prepared that he will likely try to flirt some more.::

Silence held for several more blocks. ::How can I tell him I am not interested without upsetting him?::

::Acknowledging his interest and being firm without being abrupt,:: Bluestreak advised. ::Offering friendship would help. He will likely be disappointed, no matter how kindly it is put.::

::I will try.:: Prowl said, decidedly uneasy now. ::Is it strange I have no response to him?::

::Not necessarily. Just because someone is attracted to you does not mean you'll return the interest,:: Bluestreak assured his creation. It brought up painful memories for him, but he didn't allow that to show.

::Okay. Good.:: Prowl relaxed, accepting the reassurance that he wasn't too abnormal.

* * *

Prowl had been racing the mechling marathons for several vorns now. It fired him, the long chase, calculating his opponents. He was becoming known for consistently coming in second, though most didn't seem to realize the true reason for it.

The other mechlings in the circuit were familiar faces to him by now. He knew their names, their strengths, and their weaknesses. He assumed they knew most of his as well. He was comfortable here with these mechlings. It was less structured than school, but it held more of a common bond. If nothing else, every mecha here could agree that they loved to race.

They were completing the cool-down lap from the final race when Iceslick, who had come in third behind Prowl, came up close to him. Iceslick was a mechling that went to a different school, and like so many in the group was the creation of a professional racer. "Hey Prowl."

"Hello Iceslick," Prowl responded, smoothly adjusting his motion to make the conversation easy to maintain. "You raced well."

"Thank you. You did as well," Iceslick replied. "Do you have time to hang out? Maybe talk shop?"

"If we can do so in the washracks and over energon," Prowl responded carefully. "I need to be home in a joor and a half for my tutoring in imperial law."

"Washracks and energon sound good to me," Iceslick responded. "I probably shouldn't stay out much longer than that myself."

"Then your company would be welcome," Prowl gave a shy smile and motioned Iceslick to follow him to the track washracks. While he was quietly hopeful that this might be a friend, he was keenly aware that 97.1% of all contacts requesting time resulted in a request to interface before it was over. They'd become more rare since he'd politely turned down the majority of mechlings that frequented the track, but Iceslick wasn't one of them. Instead this mechling was one of the more thoughtful racers, his style closer to Prowl's own. 

"Want help washing your back?" Iceslick asked politely as they entered the washracks, his field radiating his benign intentions. He truly meant it as simply a wash, rather than the more flirting tone the other mechlings took.

"It would be welcome," Prowl's sensor wings and field expressed his thanks for the consideration. "I would return the favor," he offered as they claimed two showerheads next to each other and turned them on.

"I'd like that," Iceslick replied with a smile, grabbing a cleaner and cloth to make quick work of the dust from the track off of his frame. "Why'd you decide to join us? You're not heading pro," he asked curiously when they were both about half finished with what they could reach themselves.

"After my first mechling racing class Lightpede invited me to race with his friends. I find it much more enjoyable to challenge myself against those I have difficulty beating. Since no one has objected to my presence yet, I have stayed," Prowl explained.

"Well, you're certainly getting challenged here," Iceslick said with a grin. "What are you studying to do?"

"Enforcer. I expect I will become a command officer, though my goal is detective," Prowl perked up to talk about what he was already beginning to love. "I love puzzles and helping mecha."

"Yeah?" Iceslick asked, happy to learn more about Prowl. He was so different than the other mechlings at the races, and that was intriguing. "How'd you decide on it?"

"I always knew I wanted to follow my carrier into public service, but I learned young that I do not have the personality for a medic. A friend of the family suggested researcher, scientist, lawyer or detective for my love of puzzles and quality of memory access. While all are still possible, I'm leaning strongly towards Enforcer as it will allow me to be on the road for joors at a time."

"You're aiming for a Fourth Diploma, then?" Iceslick asked.

"Yes," Prowl wiggled his sensor wings in agreement as he finished wiping down what he could easily reach, then turned to wet his back. "It seems excessive, but that is what politics demand."

"How is your creator affording it? Responders only need a Second Diploma, right?" Iceslick asked curiously as he himself started wetting his own back.

"Lord Everthrall is sponsoring me." Prowl answered. "It's odd, but it's a future I could never come close to on my own."

"What's it like, with a sponsor?" Waiting for permission from Prowl, Iceslick moved in to start cleaning his back. His touch was firm and direct. There was a hint of desire in his field, but it was background only and obviously well controlled.

"Well, you don't really have to worry about credits or access to the good schools and such, but it also means that you know you'll be called on to do things you don't want to do for the rest of your existence. Or at least until you find a way to pay back the credits and favors spent on you," Prowl answered as he relaxed into the touch. It felt good not to be touched with the intent to arouse him.

"Are you happy with it? Or would you rather that your creator had found a different way?" Iceslick asked as he moved to clean Prowl's sensor wings, his touch there delicate.

"I try not to think about it," Prowl admitted with a soft, pleasured sound at the perfect touch. "The choice was made. There is little use in debating if it was the correct one. It is not as if I would be in the position my creator was in if I have a creation."

"What would you rather debate about?" the other mechling asked, motioning for Prowl to rinse off.

Prowl's sensor wings fluttered slightly as his field perked up with interest even as he moved to rinse off. "The Diploma system, the fines for traveling between cities, why some fully consensual activities are illegal, why some things that harm mecha are legal, why exceptional mecha occasionally come from First Diploma sparklines, what should be the definition of consent. Do any of those appeal to you?"

Iceslick hummed in thought as he shifted to present his back to Prowl. "How about the issue of consent?" he suggested as he felt strong, sure hands carefully wiping him clean with a platonic but pleased field against him. "What do you think it should be?"

"For my actions it is very straightforward. Explicit agreement with uncompromised processors. I'm fond of written contracts," Prowl said. "In criminal law it is much more complicated. Perception and compromised processors both play into it, as far too many mecha do not think far enough ahead."

Iceslick hummed as Prowl began to work on his back. "Yeah, it could get murky there. So you think an overcharged mech is incapable of giving consent? Where would the line be? Lightly buzzed? A moderate charge?"

"Personally, even lightly buzzed is more than I deem capable of rational choices," Prowl paid more attention to his work that what he was saying, though he maintained awareness of both. "I'm aware I have far higher standards than most think is reasonable. What are your lines?"

"Honestly, it's not something I had given a lot of thought to. I've seen a lot of overcharged mechlings at parties, and no one's seemed to have a problem with it," Iceslick replied, enjoying Prowl's thoroughness.

"As have I. I have also read thousands of legal case files on everything from theft to assault to capitol murder and the one factor that 85.9% have in common is some form of altered processor state, generally high grade induced," Prowl explained. "Most mecha can go their entire existence with normal use and never have an issue. When there is an issue, however, high grade or some other substance is frequently involved."

"So what's the response, then? Ban high grade because a minority can't handle it?" Iceslick asked. "Many mechs would be very upset at that."

Prowl paused, so startled by the suggestion that he briefly froze. He gathered his wits quickly and continued the careful washing. "That would be impractical. No, the response is to be exceptionally careful when interacting with those who are not completely themselves. One cannot control what others do. Only what oneself does."

Iceslick hummed. "What would make a dent in the numbers?" He was curious, now that Prowl had got him thinking about the subject.

"I would give stronger penalties for those who do break the law while overcharged, including banning those individuals from legally purchasing it. The penalties should increase with each conviction. While that system is working, implement a long-term social program to make being overcharged socially unacceptable. If it is not acceptable to peers fewer mecha will get overcharged," Prowl stepped back and motioned for Iceslick to rinse. "All of that requires authority far beyond what any one mecha posses."

"Stronger penalties might work, and it might be able to go through eventually," Iceslick said. "I don't think any mech or group could make a city-wide cultural shift to not get overcharged. Not when it's currently an acceptable way to celebrate or temporarily forget hardship."

"Once duels to the death were common and completely legal in all classes and castes. Now they never are. The same can be said for rape and slavery under many circumstances," Prowl pointed out evenly. "Massive social change can happen. It simply takes a great deal of time and the political will and drive to make it happen."

Iceslick shook his helm. "I can't imagine what it would take to convince mecha to start making the change. Most would argue that getting overcharged is a personal choice that generally doesn't affect others. I know I enjoy getting buzzed now and then."

"It is difficult to process how such a change can occur," Prowl agreed as Iceslick finished rinsing and they went to dry off. "It is historical fact that such dramatic changes can and do happen, however."

Conversation was paused as the dryers came on, blowing air on them to quickly dry them off. "What do you think is a more likely societal change?" Iceslick asked. "I don't know if it's real, but it feels like a lot more mecha are getting sponsored to move out of their original class."

Prowl hummed and walked with Iceslick towards one of the cafes nearby. "A weakening of the caste system is more likely as the mechanism is already in place."

"And you would know about that," Iceslick grinned at him. "The rest of your family Second Diploma?"

"Most of my kin are First Diploma. A few have a Second," Prowl answered without shame. "I'll have the highest education by a significant margin. Are all your family pro racers?"

"First Diploma?" Iceslick asked in surprise, though he wasn't put off. "I'd say about two-thirds of my family are pro racers, or otherwise work in the industry."

"Then you never had much doubt as to what you would do?" Prowl asked, rather fascinated by the idea of not having to spend vorns testing and debating what to do with his education and what function to pursue.

"Not really. My carrier was out on the track for as long as he was allowed, so it's always been a part of my awareness. It just feels right to continue doing it," Iceslick replied. "How'd your carrier decide to become a First Responder?"

Prowl hummed thoughtfully. "He wanted to help people, though I believe the primary criteria was that the training could be completed while he was still under contract."

"How much time do you spend with your uncle?" Iceslick asked as they slid into a booth at the restaurant.

"We lived with him before I was sponsored," Prowl smiled, his sensor wings waving gently with remembered pleasure. "I still see him when I can. It isn't as often as I'd like," he admitted as they considered the menu.

"He give you any tips for racing?" Iceslick grinned, barely glancing at the menu.

"As much as I'll listen to, which is everything," Prowl grinned back and glancing up to catch the server's optic. "He likes to focus on the 'how not to get in a wreck' side of things. Seems to think that working out how to drive fast doesn't need explaining."

"My creators tend to focus more on pacing, and timing passes," Iceslick said, before pausing as a server came and took their orders. The racer mechling ordered the signature dish after Prowl put in his order for something that was casually referred to as the acid bath special at its strongest. Even the server double-checked that he understood what he was ordering.

"Those are good things to know, especially if you're going to race more seriously than I do," Prowl agreed when the server left. "My tac-net runs the calculations faster than I can think about it, so I go with its recommendations."

"Well, it seems to be giving you good recommendations," Iceslick praised with a grin. "How does it work?"

"I'm not completely sure. It's experimental hardware," Prowl said as he attempted to put what was simply part of him into glyphs that might make sense to another. "You know the processors you have that handle raw data and do calculations of odds and percentages?"

Iceslick nodded in acknowledgement. "It's like those processors, but it just handles a lot more data?"

"More data, and much, much faster and gives recommendations based on those calculations." Prowl nodded. "It also enhances an already exceptional memory."

Iceslick gave an impressed whistle. "That must be one expensive piece of hardware."

"I expect so," Prowl agreed, pausing as their cubes arrived. "It was my sponsor's request. Do you have any specialty upgrades, or plan on them?"

"Just the normal racing upgrades, nothing special," Iceslick admitted as they fell into small talk over their energon.

* * *

Captain Strikeline leaned against the wall, watching the mechling races. He'd been tipped off that a promising future Enforcer would be amongst the mechlings racing. It wasn't hard for him to pick out Prowl--not with the way he chased the leading mechling, often coming in second. That was a very familiar pattern, one common amongst Enforcers. Anyone with that strong a hunting drive was likely to do well as a pursuit officer, and many of them had patrol and guarding protocols just as strong as the hunting ones. No one had worked out why or how the protocols appeared in seemingly random members of society, but there was no question that they did. They marked the beginning of a new Enforcer sparkline.

It would be interesting to see how much drive in him this mechling had, especially considering his recommendations.

Strikeline waited until the races were done for the day, and nodded a greeting to the supervising official as he slipped onto the track. The few mechlings who noticed him made way for him, making it easy to reach his target.

"Prowl? I'm Captain Strikeline. Do you have a moment?" he politely requested.

"Of course, Sir," Prowl responded like the well-drilled upstanding citizen he was reported to be.

"I hear you're interested in joining the Enforcers," Strikeline opened, twitching his sensor wings in a way to indicate that Prowl could drop the formality.

The mechling immediately relaxed, relieved that this wasn't about trouble of some kind. So did those around him, ensuring that the rumors that would spread like a wildfire wouldn't harm him socially. "Yes, it seems the most suited field for both my interests and talents."

Strikeline smiled at him. "I like to take an interest in potential recruits that seem promising. Is there a good time for us to talk?" The Captain intentionally left it open, knowing from long-ago experience that the mechling would have a busy schedule.

"I have a joor and a half before my tutor arrives and I must be home, if now is agreeable for you?" Prowl offered.

"Now is agreeable to me. I'm sure you want to wash up after the race. Perhaps meet up outside and go to a cafe?" Strikeline suggested.

Prowl flicked his doorwings in agreement and shot Iceslick a look, who flicked his doorwings in agreement. "Then in two breems?"

Strikeline nodded. "I will see you outside, then," the Captain canted his sensor wings before moving away.

Iceslick moved in closer to Prowl. "This good?"

"It's good. He's a recruiter," he smiled at his friend. "I'm meeting him outside in a couple breems to chat at the cafe, but I'd like to be clean first."

"Definitely," Iceslick smiled back, heading towards the washracks with Prowl. It didn't take the mechlings long to clean and head outside, where the Enforcer captain was waiting for them. Iceslick watched Prowl and Strikeline walk to a cafe across the street that Prowl and Iceslick often visited after racing, before taking off himself.

Strikeline smiled as they settled into a booth and made idle chatter as they ordered and received their energon. "Have you given any thought to what position amongst the Enforcers you would like?" he asked Prowl.

"A detective, I believe," Prowl answered smoothly. "I love puzzles and I'm very good at them."

The Captain nodded. "You do realize that these puzzles would involve real crime, and victims? Some of which will be quite horrific."

"Yes, sir," Prowl nodded seriously. "Though I have not been to a real crime scene, I have read thousands of case files that have been made public. My carrier is a First Responder medic. I've been on some scenes with him where mecha extinguished or were mangled. I cannot say it is easy to look at, but I didn't lose my energon either."

"That is a good start, though not the full extent," Strikeline replied evenly. "Detectives must be able to handle the friends and family of victims, as well as suspects. Often they're one in the same. We, more than any other law-abiding citizen, see the worst of what society can produce."

Prowl canted his sensor wings in understanding. "Enforcers, detectives, also help victims heal and prevent future victims from the same mecha. You keep society intact with reminders to obey the law and stopping those who refuse to be good citizens."

"It's a thankless job most orns," Strikeline said. "Also one that's full of danger. While detectives don't face as much direct threat as patrol Enforcers and those in the special divisions, it's always a risk. A suspect might become violent during an interview, there might be hostile mechs at a crime scene, a perpetrator's family or friends might target a detective for revenge," he pointed out.

Prowl gave a slow nod of understanding and sipped on his energon as he processed that, and worked out the reason he was being told this. "From the reports I have access to, fatalities and serious injuries among Enforcers are not very common. Less than one a vorn by violence."

"That's still one of the highest job hazard rates in the city," Strikeline said. "Don't fool yourself into thinking that it wouldn't be you, because you think the risk is low. It's those who don't respect the danger of the job that are most likely to get themselves or their partners killed."

"I understand," Prowl promised. "That is not a deterrent for me."

Strikeline gave him a small smile. "I wanted to make sure you had considered all aspects of the job, not just what seems exciting and interesting," he said.

"I appreciate the insights and information. It is the only way to make a good decision," Prowl hummed as he sipped his energon. "Were you a detective?"

"I started with patrol before becoming a detective, and eventually worked my way to my current position," Strikeline said, before going into stories of his time with the Enforcer to give Prowl a better idea of what he could expect.

* * *

Prowl was watching more than usual, not that his companion realized it. With a vorn of friendship between them and no attempt to act on the arousal Prowl could often teek, Prowl was comfortable enough with Iceslick to consider responding. He was curious. Despite some whispers, his interface equipment and protocols were in working order, they just didn't have the priority that many mechlings gave them.

This orn they had walked around the Helix Gardens, talking about whatever came to their processors that seemed interesting, and none of it was about racing. It was something that the other mechlings from their racing group would find odd, but it worked for them. Though as time passed, Iceslick kept glancing at him thoughtfully, his gaze resting on Prowl's lip plates for several kliks before he would force himself to look away.

It was really all the prompting that Prowl needed. He knew he'd been contemplating asking Iceslick to be his first lover for some time, and he knew Iceslick found him physically appealing. So when they settled in Prowl's room to watch a long vid after grabbing energon, he leaned closer to his friend on the couch until their shoulders touched.

The other mechling glanced over at the touch, hesitating a moment before finding his courage. "Hey Prowl? ...Would it be okay if I kissed you?"

"Yes," Prowl smiled slightly and turned his helm to make it easier for Iceslick, allowing the other to lead.

Iceslick smiled at him, before leaning in for a slow kiss. Pleasure at this long-anticipated moment flared in his field. Prowl relaxed into it before kissing back, or trying to. That first touch told Iceslick all he needed to about Prowl's experience, or lack thereof.

Iceslick's hand came up to gently guide Prowl's helm, his lips coaxing Prowl's into the motions. Prowl was a quick learner and he wanted to learn this. His lip plates parted willingly when Iceslick caressed them with his glossa and it only took a few strokes before Prowl got the hang of an intimate kiss. Iceslick moaned softly into the kiss, a testament to how quickly Prowl could pick things up. His hands tightened reflexively on Prowl. It was nearly a breem before Iceslick pulled it back into a lighter touch, and then finally broke it, resting his chevron guard against Prowl's.

"So? What you think?" the racer asked when he could finally speak.

"Very enjoyable," Prowl all but purred, content to remain where he was for the moment even as his interface protocols urged for more.

"Enjoyable enough to do again?" Iceslick asked in response, shifting so that more of his frame was in contact with Prowl's.

"Yes," Prowl tipped his helm and leaned forward to less his lip plates against Iceslick's, moving and exploring, while one hand came up to begin stroking Iceslick's arm and shoulder.

Iceslick's field flared in response to the contact. He lost himself in the pure pleasure of kissing his friend-hopefully-more, one arm slipping around Prowl's waist. He easily relaxed back when Prowl pressed into the kiss and the touch. He moaned willingly as Prowl's hands slid along his frame, exploring and sending zaps of pleasure into him. It was so much more than he had hoped for when he had asked to kiss Prowl. He could feel protocols raging to life as he returned the exploratory touches. The racer mechling did his best to try to rein them in. He wanted Prowl, yes, but he knew how much time and thought the other mechling put into decisions and didn't want to push him too fast or too soon.

That thought lasted right up to the moment that Prowl's questing fingers slid across his valve cover and began to circle. He could feel the heat from Prowl's frame, the charge in his field. With any other mecha there would be no question. With Prowl....

"Open?" Prowl asked softly in a quick break between kissing.

"You sure?" Iceslick needed the confirmation that Prowl wanted to do this, that he wasn't offering on expectation alone.

"I'm sure," Prowl purred as his spike cover slid open and his spike slid partway out. "I've been thinking about interfacing with you for almost a metacycle."

"Wanted you for longer," Iceslick admitted, his own valve cover snapping open eagerly. One hand slid down Prowl's front to stroke and explore the partially-exposed spike. It was beautifully crafted, in line with the quality of Prowl's frame. The tip flared slightly, then ribbed along much of the length. That would feel _amazing_ as his calipers held the lining tight to this surface.

Prowl gasped at the touch and pressed into it, his plan forgotten at the surge of pleasure.

Iceslick trembled in eagerness, stroking the length. His mouth moved to lick and caress Prowl's neck, seeking other places that would give his friend pleasure. He realized within a klik that Prowl had lost his focus completely, which put Iceslick in charge. He could feel, teek, that Prowl was charging up fast. Maybe a bit too fast to last through more than the hand on his spike.

It honestly didn't surprise him. Not after his first time, nor being amongst the first for several other mechlings he knew. "Enjoy it, Prowl," he moaned into his friend's audio as he continued to stroke his spike, entwining their fields to better feel what was rolling off of Prowl. The pleasure was burning hot as it lapped against him, and so was something else he valued greatly and had worked hard to earn: trust. Prowl was relaxed, comfortable with Iceslick touching him so intimately as he shuddered, panted and moaned into ever-higher pitches as he pressed and rocked into the touch.

Strong hands closed around Iceslick's shoulders and Prowl jerked his hips forward, gasping with charge. He keened with surprise and shuddered before his frame locked up with the cascading charge of his first overload.

Iceslick continued to stroke him through it, free arm holding Prowl steady and his helm pressed against Prowl's. His transfluid-coated hand slowed and stopped as the other mechling's frame relaxed, nuzzling him. Arousal and pleasure at being the one allowed to be the first to touch Prowl so filled his field.

"That felt very good," Prowl managed after a moment. "What can I do to make you feel good?"

"Touch me," Iceslick invited. "Seams, sensor wings, and especially valve all feel good." He leaned in, kissing Prowl again and felt those warm lip plates press back, kissing with a desire that made Iceslick _burn_. Hands came up to stroke him, exploring seams, caressing doorwings, but didn't take long to find his interface array and began to stroke a slow, exploratory circle around the valve rim.

Iceslick moaned and pressed into the touch, his field flaring in desire. His own hands weren't idle, stroking and clinging to Prowl's frame. "Yes, Prowl..."

Warm lip plates claimed Iceslick's again and fingers slid inward, carefully venturing into the slick opening with both curiosity and the desire to pleasure and not hurt. "What feels best?"

"Rub nodes, twist, _thrust_ ," the experienced mechling replied with a groan of need. A hot wash of lubricant coated Prowl's fingers as the other mechling slowly came undone in his arms.

Prowl gave a nod, his field betraying his inexperienced nervousness, but he did as instructed. Two fingers pressed inward, rubbing, getting a sense of how deep the valve was and the strength of the lining. Once he drew them back he pressed forward, faster and rolling his wrist as he did so. It was already enough to make his spike hard again and his valve slick.

"Yes," Iceslick gasped, praise and pleasure woven through the glyph. "More, please!"

Prowl did his best to comply, timing the movements and strength of his hand to what he'd seen in the few interfacing vids he'd watched when he first grew curious. Those hadn't done anything to arouse him, but this, the pleasure-saturated field roiling against his own, this did plenty. He did his best to continue kissing while he rolled his wrists and pumped his fingers in and out, always carefully watching and teeking for distress. Distress that was far from the field woven with his own. Iceslick was already primed for pleasure, aroused at feeling and being the source of Prowl's, and not prone to holding back. It didn't take long for his frame to tumble into overload, frame locking up against Prowl's. The overload charge licked and danced across their plating wherever it was close, and Prowl moaned with pleasure.

He kissed Iceslick as he felt him begin to relax. "Does it feel as good to have a spike moving there?"

"It's even better with a spike," Iceslick purred, kissing back.

Prowl's slick fingers slid across Iceslick's spike cover. "Move to the berth and show me?"

The cover snapped open at his touch, Iceslick's hands running down Prowl's sides. "Gladly. Would you rather us face each other, or me face your back so I can play with your sensor wings at the same time?"

Prowl though about it as they moved, then settled on his back. "I rather enjoy kissing."

"You'll want pillows to prop you up, then," Iceslick said, "Lemme help you. It can get painful." The other mechling grabbed some of the pillows from the berth, setting them behind Prowl so that his weight wouldn't be on his wing hinges. He waited until Prowl settled again, waited for the squirming to end and for Prowl's attention to focus on him once more.

"Comfy?" Iceslick purred, leaning in to kiss Prowl. His field flicked against the other mechling's with eager anticipation and teeked the anticipation in his lover.

"Yes. I want to feel you inside me," Prowl trilled with a hungry rumble of his engine.

"You will," Iceslick promised before kissing him deeply. His hands stroked down Prowl's frame, one reaching his valve stroking the slick platelets. He enjoyed the moan and press into his touch, the ripple of the mechanisms inside anticipating being filled. It felt very good, as he made sure Prowl was wound up, slick, and needy before he moved on. Just the teek alone made Iceslick's spike emerge and lock in place.

Prowl was pleading with his look, his teek, his moans, the trembling of his frame and speed of his fans. He _wanted_ this, badly, and gave no doubt of the desire.

Iceslick moaned, his hand moving to Prowl's hip, to hold him in place at the right angle as the more experienced mechling nudged his spike against the entrance. Then, with careful slowness despite his own eagerness, he began to sink into his lover's unused valve. Prowl gasped, shivered and moaned, his hips wanting to edge up into the motion as new interfacing protocols surged to the forefront of Prowl's awareness.

"So good," Prowl gasped when Iceslick was finally seated fully against him, spike housing stimulating the platelets and spike stimulating everything beyond.

"You feel good," Iceslick praised. "So slick, so _tight_." He kissed Prowl deeply, glossa surging into Prowl's mouth as he pulled back so that he could press in once more. 

Prowl welcomed the invasion and met it, shivering with the charge that danced across his circuits when Iceslick moved. He squeezed and rippled the valve lining and calipers on protocol demand rather than understanding and gasped at the surge of pleasure it brought. His lover groaned in pleasure, his hip movements becoming true thrusts. His glossa began to move in time with their hips, his hands shifting to stroke and find more pleasure spots on Prowl's frame.

The first delve of fingers into his hip joints make Prowl keen and throw his helm back, breaking the kiss with the first hard, uncontrolled jerk of Prowl's overload. His valve contracted hard, crackling with energy, as his frame began to lock up.

"Yes, Prowl, want to feel it," Iceslick moaned in his audio, continuing to thrust into him, reveling in feeling the overload when he wasn't close enough to go over the edge himself. It didn't take long before Prowl was going lax under him, panting and shivering with the tingling charge the continued motions caused.

Iceslick's hips slowed, but didn't stop their movements. "Feels so good when you overload," he said to Prowl while nuzzling him.

"Did you?" Prowl asked, still more dazed than coherent.

"No, but that's okay," Iceslick purred, his hands moving to start revving Prowl up again. "Overloads don't always sync up."

It didn't take him long to notice that instead of revving up, Prowl was starting to wind down. "You want me to finish myself off?" he asked his lover.

It took Prowl effort to focus enough to really understand the question, then he shook his helm and stretched up for a kiss. "I want to feel you overload too."

Iceslick made a noise of happy agreement, beginning to thrust once more. "It'll help if you try to squeeze down in time," he panted.

Prowl nodded and focused on squeezing as Iceslick drew back and lifting his hips as he thrust forward. It still felt good and it was enjoyable to feel the pleasure building in his lover, but he didn't get much charge from it.

The racer mechling moaned as he continued, not holding back any of his pleasure as he worked himself in Prowl's valve. It didn't take long before he reached his own tripping point, keening as he sent hot bursts of fluid deep in Prowl. The bursts of hot, crackling goo hit deep sensors in Prowl's frame and he shuddered with the pleasure it caused, along with the energy leaping into his valve lining from the spike grinding into him.

Slowly Iceslick came down, panting and sated from both overloads and the added pleasure of a lover that welcomed him to continue to use his frame post-overload.

"That felt good," Prowl purred, nuzzling the relaxing mecha on top of him.

"Good, it's supposed to," Iceslick purred back before kissing him softly. "Mind if I 'charge here?" he asked with a grin.

"Please do. I think my creator would hunt you down if you tried to leave," Prowl chuckled with good humor. "He knows what I had planned."

Iceslick snickered at that. "Always good to have creator's permission. I warned mine I might be staying out so they wouldn't worry." He grinned at Prowl before shifting, freeing and retracting his spike so they could settle in more comfortable positions for recharge. He began to purr softly when it became clear that Prowl was a snuggler, and they both drifted into recharge physically sated and mentally content with the evening.

* * *

Strikeline hummed as he and Prowl raced around the Enforcers' private track. The captain was testing his protege's chase instinct, to learn his natural style. What at first seemed to be a simple, straightforward see target, chase target had quickly been disproven as Prowl displayed an absolutely uncanny talent for anticipating moves and countering to stay within the stated goal of three lengths behind Strikeline. 

The methodical approach was very promising in an Enforcer. Such abilities couldn't always be taught at the level Prowl was displaying, and was something that could save lives.

In fact, Prowl's distance behind his target varied by no more than a quarter length. At the speeds they were going, it was an amazing feat even for a trained Enforcer. For a mechling that wasn't even a rookie yet, it had Strikeline thinking about specialty fields and upgrades. It was already clear to him that Prowl was over-qualified to be an Enforcer, even the detective Prowl wanted to be, but if the mechling held on and made it through training, it would be an incredible coup for Strikeline's record.

"Hey, boss! Can we come out and play too?" a voice called from the sidelines. Two Enforcers stood there, watching Prowl and Strikeline go around the track.

"Sure thing!" Strikeline called back. ::Just keep Prowl in the loop with what you're doing,:: he added on an open transmission as he led Prowl around to the far side of the loop.

The two Enforcers obligingly pinged Prowl as they dropped into alt mode and caught up with the mechling. ::I'm Chasedown, my partner is Booker. Want to get some experience with coordinating with other chasers?:: the first one asked.

::Yes.:: Prowl answered smoothly, his focus on Strikeline unwavering even as he diverted enough to keep track of the two new frames nearby.

Booker pinged Strikeline with their plan, and waited until the captain revved his engine and jerked away from Prowl. The mechling made a good attempt to follow the sudden movement, his priority still clearly on following his target. ::We're going to try boxing him in. If you can get a suspect boxed in, you can control their speed and direction,:: the Enforcer said to Prowl.

::Where should I be?:: Prowl asked as he doggedly stuck to Strikeline's bumper.

::For this pass, keep behind him,:: Chasedown instructed. ::Keep him from slowing down to try to make us overshoot, and watch how we pin him in. This works even better with four Enforcers.:: With that the two Enforcers revved their engines, Chasedown came up even with his superior, Booker going up past him to get in front, and slightly to the side of Strikeline. With this set up, Strikeline couldn't go between them, and Booker could cut off any moves to his side. Then as the trained unit they were, they began to guide where the captain could go.

Prowl locked onto his new duties, his new priority set, without question, hesitation or thought to object. Strikeline and Chasedown were both close enough to teek the edge of his field and catch that the mechling was enjoying the teamwork, the success of working together. It was a huge hurdle for most that this potential recruit wouldn't need to overcome. So many took a lot of training and conditioning, and sometimes even protocol edits, not to want to be in front and get the supposed glory of the call. Prowl saw the beauty of unit success and wanted that.

It made Strikeline even more pleased with this mechling that he had taken on.

After a few laps, Booker spoke up again to Prowl. ::Want to try taking the lead, see what it's like to try to control the chase?::

::Yes.:: Prowl responded, though he didn't move yet. ::Under normal conditions, how does one get in front of a faster alt mode?::

::Normally if you're already in the chase, then you stay in back and call for back-up. If you're joining the chase, then you plot an intercept that would get you in front,:: Booker explained. ::You also can take advantage of their reactions to surroundings and traffic to try to use that to overtake them. Few will stay at their top speed the whole time, not when there's obstacles and turns.:: The Enforcer dropped back, giving Prowl space to move up.

The mechling surged forward, trying to treat this as a real situation even if he had no real grasp of the dangers yet. He cut close, unfazed even in his field at brushing within a finger width of Booker to pass him. When he was out front, he did his best to stay offset so Strikeline couldn't sneak by in either direction.

The captain did try testing the mechling, to see what his responses would be to try to hold a suspect in formation. The mechling didn't have as much driving control as a fully trained Enforcer, but he was still putting up a decent showing. What he lacked in knowledge he seemed to make up for in processor power and the ability to think his way through it fast enough.

It felt good, having this much potential before him and wanting the function. In truth, he wasn't courting Prowl so much as he was easing him into the knowledge and often insular culture that was being an Enforcer so when the intense training came he'd have allies, some trust it would be worth it and an understanding of the culture that most other recruits and rookies were raised in.

It was a good while before they pulled over to stop, Chasedown slinging an arm over Prowl's shoulders. "You're good, Prowl. Where'd the Captain find you?"

"Thank you. I was at the Velocity Loop track racing with the mechlings going pro," he responded.

Chasedown chuckled at the literal answer. "You wanting to go Pursuit? Most recruits take vorns of training to get where you are now."

"Detective," Prowl flicked his sensor wings with residual excitement at the thought of his future. "Chasing and hunting is fun, but I love puzzles and helping people by figuring out the truth."

"If you're good enough for the Captain to be taking an interest, I'm sure you'll easily make Detective," Booker rumbled, causing Prowl's sensor wings to lift with pride and hope.

"You wanna see the break room?" Chasedown asked him.

"Sure," Prowl smiled at him. "What do you do on the force?"

"This way," Booker guided Prowl out of the track and into the rest of the building. The Captain followed a few paces behind, but allowed Prowl to socialize with the other two.

"We're Pursuit," Chasedown replied to Prowl's question. "What you were doing on the track is our specialty. We're trained to handle the worst runners and long chases, the ones that won't stick to the rules of the road or stop."

"The ones that are a willful danger to everyone in the area," Prowl said with a grumble of his engine at the description. "Do you usually find out why someone runs like that?"

"Most have committed a crime such as theft or assault and haven't been arrested for it yet," Booker said. "Either there is an outstanding warrant, or they're at least considered a mecha of interest. A surprising number of them are mecha simply panicking and not processing that they are putting themselves in a much worse position by running."

"Panic?" Prowl cocked his helm, his sensor wings flicking with a mixture of uncertainty and confusion. "Why would someone panic?"

"They hear the sirens and assume that they are in much worse trouble than they actually are," Chasedown said with a shrug. "Those that panic are the ones that rarely commit even minor infractions, so when they hear the sirens they get kicked into lower instinctive protocols and stop processing rationally."

"That sounds like faulty programming or a bad priority tree," Prowl postulated. "A generally law-abiding being should react to law enforcement with compliance, not panic."

"That, or a minor glitch. Either way it's our job to get them stopped safely, and for others to handle whatever caused it," Chasedown replied.

"It is common, to have to chase down non-criminals?" Prowl asked, fascinated and disturbed by the revelations. It was a part of Enforcer function that he hadn't studied well.

"Thankfully not too common. Most of those we chase are running for a reason. That we would have to chase down non-criminals at all would surprise most," Booker said.

Prowl hummed his understanding as they reached the break room. "What do you typically do when you get a non-criminal to stop?" He asked as he took in moderately sized room. It had enough space to hold several long tables with benches, and a pair of couches as one end. An energon dispenser was at the other, and Chasedown headed for it while Booker led Prowl to a seat at one of the tables. Several other Enforcers were already there and called out greetings to the mecha.

"At that point they need to be processed for failing to stop and endangering others," Booker said. It was becoming obvious that he was the one better-versed in protocols. "If there wasn't any outstanding warrants or other interest in them, then it ends up being recommended to them to seek help for why they ran."

"That's good. One mistake or glitch that doesn't hurt anyone shouldn't ruin a mecha's future," Prowl laid out his beliefs. "Do you have to deal with overcharged or drugged mecha often?"

"Frequently," Chasedown said as he came back with enough cubes of energon for everyone in their group. "Mecha that are overcharged or drugged don't process correctly, and that makes them more likely to bolt."

"More likely to bolt, assault, get killed. You name the bad choice, and overcharged is the top reason it happens," Strikeline commented as he accepted his cube from Chasedown. "It's one of those things that every Enforcer I know of would love to see gone from the world, and everyone knows it'll never happen."

"We'd mostly be out of work if everyone remained sober all the time," Booker chuckled.

Talk drifted to other aspects of Enforcer life, from what Prowl already expected to the ways it shaped the personal lives of the mecha that joined. Every so often other Enforcers would drift over to be introduced, and Booker would often use the harmonic signaling future-kin-by-function when introducing Prowl. Every time he heard it the mechling's sensor wings twitched with anticipation and pride at the claim.

* * *

Prowl drifted between kin, friends, acquaintances and Enforcers in the large celebration. Most he spoke with were there for him, in honor of his passing the Third Diploma tests. The rest were celebrating their own graduations, or there to celebrate with those that were graduating.

"I'm so proud of you," Bluestreak said as he caught Prowl in a quick hug. "Congratulations."

"Thank you, creator," Prowl lightly leaned into the contact. "I know it has not been easy for you."

"No, but it'll be worth it to see you in a function that suits you, and for you to also have friends," Bluestreak replied with a smile, giving Prowl a light squeeze.

"I'm glad," Prowl smiled back. "One more diploma to go and I'll be on the fast track to detective. Detective Quizlight is already letting me work on some cases and I'm enjoying it."

Nearby mechs murmured at that, most impressed that a mechling was that respected for his work, but Bluestreak paid them no mind. "Anything that's gone to court yet?" the creator teased.

"Only a couple minor cases," Prowl tried not to purr. He hadn't been in court, but his work, backed by the detective, had been used.

"I am sure that no one could have been able to tell that if was you working on it, rather than a full detective," Bluestreak praised, knowing how thorough his creation was.

Prowl's sensor wings fluttered at the praise and he smiled even more warmly when Shatterlight came up with sensor wings raised in good mood and a smile of pleasure.

"Congratulations Prowl," the racer said, affection for the nephew that had spent his younger years in the mech's home. "You've made the whole family proud."

Prowl's sensor wings fluttered again and he smiled warmly at the uncle that had done so much for him as a sparkling. "Thank you. As stressful as some of this has been, it's been wonderful to. I love learning, and working with the Enforcers. I'm looking forward to my Fourth Diploma so I can formally enlist.

"You are certainly proving to all that it is the right path for you," Shatterlight said fondly. "You have plans for a private celebration tonight?" he asked, fully expecting the answer to be 'yes'.

"Assuming I can escape the party before I'm exhausted," Prowl answered with a rare reminder that he really was stressed socializing.

Shatterlight grinned as he caught sight of an approaching mechling. "Somehow, I don't think that will be a problem," he teased.

Prowl followed his gaze and brightened immediately. "Iceslick. I was beginning to think you'd been called to race."

"No way was I going to miss this," Iceslick replied with a wide smile, slipping a hand into Prowl's. "You talked to everyone here for you yet?"

"I believe so," Prowl trilled, eager to be in a more controlled environment.

"Go. Shoo," Bluestreak giggled, delighted that his creation had someone.

"Yes creator," Prowl smiled at him and very willingly guided his lover from the building.

Bluestreak sighed, happy for what his creation was becoming, even if the path to get there wasn't entirely what Bluestreak would have wanted.

The elder mech moved in closer, giving Bluestreak a squeeze. "You're doing a fine job with him," he said, pride in his field.

"Thank you, Uncle," Bluestreak replied, leaning into the comfort of the older mech.

"...You know, I saw Sideswipe and Sunstreaker when I was racing in Crystal City the other decaorn," Shatterlight said softly. "They approached me after the races were done for the orn. Asked how you were doing."

Pain lanced through Bluestreak's spark at the names of mecha who still haunted him, long after memory of them should have lost its hold on him. "How is Hot Rod doing?" he asked quickly, the creation he had given them a marginally safer topic for him.

"He's a strong, smart, very flashy mechling. Couldn't be more different from Prowl." Shatterlight smiled sadly at him. "He's doing very well. Looks a lot like them."

Bluestreak's smile was bittersweet. "As long as he's happy, healthy, and doing well."

* * *

"You can chase me there," Iceslick purred as he and Prowl left and the other mechling's engine roared. It sent them moving faster to the road where Prowl allowed his lover to transform and take off before he followed. They stuck to the rules of the road, mostly, but just having the taillights in front of him was enough to rev Prowl up to the point that they didn't even make it to his room before he had Iceslick pinned to the wall and was rubbing their groins together.

The racer mechling moaned, enjoying how revved up Prowl got from the chase. A hot mouth sought Prowl's and hands found sensor wings, even as Iceslick's valve cover snapped open. He couldn't deny that just _feeling_ how worked up Prowl was turned him on, left him slick and eager for what was to come. His lover was often busy, but when he did have time, Iceslick couldn't complain about how completely Prowl gave that time and attention to him.

Prowl's spike extended between them, rubbing along the platelets before he grabbed one of Iceslick's knees, shifted his hips and sank into the racer with a deep moan.

"Yes!" Iceslick hissed, valve rippling around the spike in him. His hands moved to grip Prowl's shoulders, hanging on as his helm tipped back for the mouth he knew wanted to kiss and lick it. He relaxed into the rhythm, allowing Prowl and the wall to support his mass and giving all control over to his lover. As much as he'd learned that Prowl got off on pleasuring a lover, he knew Prowl also got off on control. And while it wasn't his kink, he very much enjoyed the way Prowl felt when he was in control. The mechling moaned as Prowl's pace picked up, their fields deeply entwined as pleasure bloomed through both their frames.

"Missed you," Prowl managed as his grip on Iceslick's leg tightened and his thrusts became deeper, harder, the crackle of energy dancing between spike and valve a glorious pleasure.

"Missed you, wanted to be with you," Iceslick gasped, his valve spasming around Prowl's spike. A couple of thrusts later and the racer keened as overload swept through his systems, temporarily whiting them out. He didn't really register the roar of his lover or the surging bursts of energy-rich transfluid being pumped into him until he came down from the first high only to be thrown over the cliff of ecstasy once more.

He moaned softly as he finally came down from it. "You're so good at that," he praised, his head coming forward to rest on Prowl's plating. A pleased, proud trill escaped Prowl as his field flushed with pleasure.

Gently Prowl drew out of Iceslick and made sure his lover was steady enough on his pedes. "Washrack," he purred, ready to indulge himself and his lover in every way now that they had a night together and Prowl didn't have to get up early in the morning.

"To play some more there, or to clean up so we can just get dirty again?" Iceslick purred back, his arms still wrapped around Prowl as he gained back his balance and they made their way there.

"To play," Prowl's voice rumbled eagerly. 

"I like playing with you in the washracks," Iceslick replied, hands sliding over Prowl's plating suggestively and delighting at how eagerly his lover responded.


	5. Becoming an Adult

Prowl booted, slow and in the controlled manner of a post-medical shutdown. A deep part of him grumbled and hissed before it was locked away by the first sector of the tac-net to finish initializing. By the time the entire system had, he knew he shouldn't have agreed to the final upgrade of it with his adult frame. His personality protocols were behind shield that the tac-net filtered both ways. The logic chips were already causing his processors pain and the energy demands of the thing were absolutely ridiculous. He wouldn't be able to afford to keep himself fueled until he reached detective unless he supplemented his income. As little as the dimmed personality protocols objected to the idea, the tac-net ran the numbers and decided that gambling was the best choice to begin with until he had the credits to invest in the market and industries.

He tried to push all that away as he powered up his optics and looked around. Both his creator and his lover were by his side, and the medic in charge of his care was present as well.

"How do you feel?" Bluestreak asked, his field reaching out to Prowl's in warm welcome.

"Like I've been rebuilt," he answered quietly, the soreness already creeping in. "This was a larger upgrade than I believe I'd expected."

"Any notices coming up red? Any unusual soreness?" the medic asked, all business. Iceslick glanced at him for permission, before reaching out to touch Prowl, ready to help him up as soon as he was allowed. Prowl's field was warm as it flickered up at him to the touch.

"No. All notices are green, except for movement related notices, which are yellow. Soreness is within expected parameters," Prowl answered.

The medic hummed at the report. "Be sure to inform us if they do not turn green within the next few breems."

"Can he sit up yet?" Iceslick asked, smiling down at Prowl before looking at the medic hopefully.

"Yes," the medic nodded and watched as Iceslick helped Prowl moved while Bluestreak hovered nearby. It didn't take long for the new adult to steady, then carefully flex his sensor wings to judge their input and affect on his balance.

Both Bluestreak and Iceslick gave them plenty of room, though the racer couldn't help the quiet rumble of his engine or the flare of desire in his field at the sight. He'd gotten his own adult upgrades three vorns earlier and still remembered the intensity of feeling Prowl's passion against new and untouched frame and components. That he'd be allowed to be Prowl's true first and his adult first was an intense turn on. So was the flare of desire that was returned.

They both remained close while the doctor watched Prowl carefully check his balance though standing, then walking, then a few basic martial arts katas.

"All notices are green," he turned to the doctor.

"Then you are free to go," the medic said, nodding to him. "Take it easy in the first few orns, but you shouldn't have any problems at this point."

Iceslick's sensor wings fluttered at Prowl, and Bluestreak was smiling. "Ready for home?" his creator asked.

"Very ready," Prowl smiled at all three. 

Both mecha walked with him out of the clinic, transforming to escort him home. It was obvious to see Iceslick's excitement, though Bluestreak was slightly more subdued.

::Are you okay, carrier?:: Prowl pinged him.

::Just a little bit concerned that the upgrades were more than you expected,:: Bluestreak replied honestly. Prowl was intelligent and steady enough that the Responder saw no point in trying to hide anything from him. ::Still, I'm glad everything integrated properly and you were released quickly.:: Honest happiness was there where Bluestreak's field just brushed Prowl's, tinged by the ever-present pride in his creation.

::They are. The tac-net is... very strong. I'm still me, however.:: Prowl promised.

::Very strong how?:: Bluestreak asked, the frown present in his tone.

::Like it looks at everything before I see it,:: Prowl attempted to explain. ::Before it was only active when I sent it something. Now, it's always running.::

::That... doesn't sound like how it was explained to us,:: Bluestreak said, concern growing. ::It seems unnecessary and like it would be a huge energy drain.::

::Agreed. It may settle when the rest of the upgrades do. It's possible it's still in a boot or initiation cycle.:: Prowl tried to reassure him.

::If it doesn't, we should talk to the designers,:: Bluestreak said firmly as they reached their home and transformed back. ::There's no reason it should be active all the time.::

::Agreed,:: Prowl closed the comm and turned to draw Iceslick against him for a heated kiss.

Iceslick purred into the kiss, hands sliding along Prowl's sides. "Ready to break in this frame?"

Bluestreak chuckled at the pair. "At least wait until you're in private."

"Yes, creator," Prowl's flared of good humor was genuine, if a bit muted as he turned and all but dragged his lover towards suite that had been his since he'd moved in. "Shower first?" he purred to Iceslick, giving no doubt that he meant to do far more than just clean up.

"If you can catch me," Iceslick purred back, bolting for the washracks that were almost as familiar as his own with Prowl hot on his heels. It didn't matter that it wasn't a real challenge or that Prowl wasn't even trying to catch him before they reached the shower. All that mattered was that seeing Iceslick running from him made Prowl run _hot_ , and that the almost-race also got Iceslick revved didn't hurt either. The interfacing was always worth it when they were running that hot.

Iceslick made it into the shower and got the solvent running before he was pinned against the wall by a hot frame. "What are you going to do to me, Enforcer?" he asked teasingly before his mouth was claimed by demanding lip plates and a delving glossa. Prowl's frame seemed to sing in the falling solvent as he began to shiver and rub against Iceslick's lighter frame.

Iceslick moaned into the kiss, his own glossa moving to tangle with Prowl's. One of the racer's legs wrapped around Prowl's as his hands became busy, mapping out as much of Prowl's frame as he could reach. The strength of that frame, so different from the lightness of his own, was enchanting. Prowl was built for speed, yes, but evenly balanced with power and armor. 

They moaned in unison as Prowl's spike pressurized between them and he began to rock against Iceslick's frame. It caused Iceslick to moan into his mouth again as his valve cover slid open. "Please, lover," he asked, his hands moving to Prowl's wing joints.

One hand reached down to pull Iceslick's leg up and shift them until he could sink into that hot, slick, so very eager valve with a rolling thrust. Prowl held still, fully seated with their arrays flush and shuddered with a gasping moan as his frame took in the sensations rushing through him at the first activation of new equipment.

Iceslick shivered at what he could feel through Prowl's field, remembering how it felt when they had interfaced for the first time after the racer's upgrades. "So good. You feel so good," he gasped out.

"It feels amazing," Prowl agreed as he shifted to pull out and thrust again, each movement slow and controlled, intent on savoring these first moments. "So very good."

"Want to feel you in every way," Iceslick replied, his valve rippling around the spike. His hands matched Prowl's pace in their stroking of his sensor wings, wanting to fill Prowl's senses with pleasure. He felt it echo back in Prowl's field; sharp, enthralling and sweet as Prowl's senses were assaulted from every direction.

"You will," Prowl promised, the surging pleasure making his voice crackle. "Missed this, missed you." He pressed forward for a hungry kiss that was readily answered. "We need to make more time."

"Missed you too," Iceslick replied, clinging to him and riding the waves of pleasure that crested higher with each smooth, powerful thrust. "Need to coordinate schedules better."

"Yes," Prowl grasped as he shook, the discrepancy between when he thought his charge should be and what it actually was beginning to draw notice. Every little movement, every spot that rubbed against his lover was alive with pleasure, but his charge was barely over default operating levels.

Iceslick hardly noticed as his ability to process coherently slipped away. Energy crackled over the nodes in his valve just before he went over the edge, keening his release. As he came down it was only to keen again with the surging movement of Prowl still driving into him, eager, aroused and very hot. Prowl's hands had worked into his hip joints, holding him up and pinned to the wall as his lip plates parted, puffing out little bursts of hot atmosphere against Iceslick's neck cabling.

"Lover, Prowl," Iceslick moaned, tilting his helm to invite Prowl closer. His hands once more found Prowl's sensor wings, stroking and squeezing the appendages.

"Feels so good," Prowl moaned, still chasing his release doggedly, rejoicing in every surge of energy even as he began to trace where so much of it went. The hands on his sensor wings, the still-crackling valve squeezing down around his moving spike, the rub of frame against frame. "It all feels good."

"So, so good," Iceslick agreed, his mouth finding and licking Prowl's chevron. It didn't take long before he was mindlessly working with Prowl again, close to a second release. Prowl continued to drive into him until he screeched and sobbed, his frame trembling out of control. Against him Prowl moaned, deep and full of need as the thrusting pace picked up, pinning Iceslick against the wall hard as Prowl felt the first genuine surges of uninhibited charge crash through his systems.

Iceslick didn't even notice his second overload. Everything was simply the wall behind him, Prowl in front of him, and the intense pleasure of Prowl's spike inside him. He rode wave after wave of bliss until the crackle and rush of Prowl's overload sent him over the cliff a third time with a screaming howl of white-out bliss.

It took nearly a breem for him to come back to himself, slumped against Prowl's chest. "Mmmm," he managed, nuzzling Prowl's shoulder.

"Amazing," Prowl agreed, using the wall and Iceslick's frame for support as much as his own struts. "Clean up, and then my berth to play with my valve?"

"Sounds like a plan," Iceslick slurred, tilting his helm to give Prowl a sloppy kiss. "Might need to play with your sensor wings a bit if it'll take as long to work up your valve as it did you spike," Iceslick suggested.

"It won't be that difficult. I have to max out the reserve batteries for the tac-net before extra charge can roam my system," Prowl explained as he slowly withdrew and shivered to settle his armor. "It'll take some time to use the stored energy. And it still felt very good the entire time," he leaned in for a long, slow kiss.

Iceslick purred into the kiss, his pedes finding the floor. "So does that mean that the batteries are still full?"

"Yes," Prowl chuckled lightly. "Plan on getting me _completely_ dirty before I clean up?"

"Need a reason to shower, right?" Iceslick grinned, his hands stroking Prowl's sides.

Prowl pressed into the contact with a low moan. "How?"

"Face the wall," Iceslick purred. "Brace yourself against it."

Prowl shivered eagerly and turned around, hands against the wall and legs spread. His valve cover slid open with an eager tilt to his hips and inviting flutter of sensor wings. He felt Iceslick press up against his back, the racer's spike rubbing along the platelets surrounding his valve. "You look so hot like that," Iceslick rumbled into his audio, hands returning to Prowl's sensor wings.

"You feel hot there," Prowl moaned, reveling in the pleasure and that he could still enjoy it fully. "Want you, stretch me, fill me."

"How badly do you want me?" Iceslick asked, shifting his hips to rub against Prowl without entering him.

Prowl moaned and pressed into the contact, his valve squeezing down on air and a few more drops of lubricant oozed out. "Badly."

"Are you burning with need?" Iceslick asked, fingers twisting into Prowl's sensor wing joints in a way that always caused a flare of pleasure in the future Enforcer.

A sharp gasp came in response and Prowl pressed into it, trying to encourage. "You can feel how hot I am. How bad I want you to fill me."

"I want to hear you say it. Tell me how badly you want me," Iceslick replied, continuing to stroke and twist the joints.

"Iceslick..." Prowl moaned deeply. "Please, fill me. I want to feel you rubbing inside me, filling me with your overload."

"Then you'll get it," Iceslick purred, sinking his spike into Prowl's valve, savoring this first feel of this new one. Prowl wasn't quite as responsive as his first time, but that had been true for Iceslick as well. They had known what was coming, so while the sensors were new much of the frame had experience.

It still never failed to rev Iceslick's engine hard to see and feel Prowl like this; under him, burning hot, dripping lubricant and panting for him.

Primus the mech had no idea how enthralling he was.

* * *

Bluestreak looked up and smiled as Prowl came home late. The young mech had just completed his Fourth Diploma, and had started his training as an Enforcer a decaorn ago. "Hi Prowl. How was training?" he asked, getting up. "I prepared energon for us. Hope you didn't get anything on your way here," he added with a grin.

"I have not refueled yet. Training is exhausting, though I am far better prepared than most recruits," Prowl responded as he came into the dining room and sat with his carrier. "It seems to irritate some of them. How was your orn?"

"My shift was normal," Bluestreak replied as he grabbed the energon, placing the more concentrated version that Prowl had started to drink in front of him. "Responded to a couple accidents, but thankfully no fatalities. I also started looking into postings for apartments up for rent."

"Why?" Prowl focused on him for a moment before hunger drew his attention to his fuel. "This is a nice place. Is it because I'm too noisy?"

Bluestreak shook his helm. "That isn't the problem. You've gotten your Fourth Diploma, you're in Enforcer training... Soon you'll be able to support yourself. I... It wouldn't be appropriate for me to stay, to remain under Lord Everthrall's charity," he said.

"It wouldn't be his, it would be mine," Prowl pointed out. "Once I received my adult upgrades the contract transferred to me."

"You want to stay here, in an apartment paid for by him?" Bluestreak asked. "Why be any more in debt to him than you need to be?"

"I've read the contract and talked to several other sponsored mecha. What he asks for isn't going to change over the price of this apartment. It's worth only a small fraction of what he's invested in me. I'm going to pay for it, I might as well enjoy it." Prowl explained his logic.

Bluestreak's sensor wings twitched in understanding of Prowl's point. "Another factor for me is... I just haven't felt fully comfortable here. It's so far beyond what I grew up on, what I can afford..."

"And very far from family," Prowl added with an understanding wave of sensor wings. "It's far from work as well. What district are you looking in?"

"Blue Crystal," Bluestreak said, relaxing at Prowl's acceptance. "It's between my creators' apartment and my Responder precinct, and it rides the line between Second and Third Diploma, so I wouldn't be too far out when I'm finally ready to test for the Third."

"A good place for you then," Prowl agreed to it. "I'll miss having you close."

"Would you rather I stayed?" Bluestreak asked, reaching out to touch Prowl's hand. Even in his final upgrades, Prowl was still his creation, still his priority. If Prowl wanted him to stay, he would for him.

"You're my creator, of course I'd like you to stay," Prowl gave him a shy look that reminded Bluestreak that despite all his accomplishments, adult frame and Enforcer upgrades, Prowl was little older than Bluestreak had been when he'd left home to explore. "I want you to be comfortable more. I'm an adult. You should follow your dreams again. It's not as if you'll be going far."

"You know I'd stay for you," Bluestreak said softly, his field supportive. "It wouldn't hurt me to stay, and it's not like I wouldn't still be able to pursue my function and my classes from here."

"I know," Prowl's field flushed slightly, primarily with gratitude for his creator's loyalty. "You'll always be welcome in my home, creator. I don't wish you to stay for me, however. If you are here, I would wish it to be because you want be here. I do not intend to lose touch with the family either. This is my home, however."

"You've seen my creator's apartment. They've been living in it since well before I was kindled," Bluestreak said. "For me, I'm always going to compare anyplace I live to there." He gave Prowl's hand a squeeze, and smiled at him. "Are you planning to ask Iceslick to move in?"

"I don't think so. I like him and the interfacing is good, but I am not sure I am ready to share my space with him," Prowl admitted to his creator for the first time that not everything was perfect between the lovers.

"Are you having problems, or is the relationship just not quite that serious?" Bluestreak asked, equally concerned and sympathetic.

"I believe it is simply not that serious," Prowl said carefully, uncertain of the truth. "We do not fight or have serious disagreements, but neither do either of us seem to be making much effort to make time to be together."

"I am sorry to hear that," Bluestreak replied quietly. "It can happen sometimes." Bluestreak's mouth quirked into a wry smile. "I haven't experienced it. None of my relationships lasted long enough for that."

"Maybe you'll give a relationship a try now that I'm in my final frame," Prowl suggested, not for the first time, that he thought his creator should have someone.

"Maybe," Bluestreak's smile turned sad. "I've never been good at picking out partners. So far you've seemed to skip over a lot of the mistakes I've made."

Prowl's sensor wings twitched. "What mistakes were those? A sample of one is not much to go on."

"Most of the time I end up with mechs that are simply wrong for anyone to be with," Bluestreak admitted. "Selfish, without giving any thought to _me_. There's a reason I rarely brought home the mechs I was seeing, the few times I've gone out while you were young."

Prowl nodded slowly, processing the fact that he'd never realized his creator had seen anyone since his sires. "I can vet anyone you're inclined to see, if you want. I've heard about interest in you from good mecha."

"I might take you up on it, once I've finished my diploma," Bluestreak said softly, deferring the offer for the moment. "Work and studies take up a lot of my time, and I want to spend what's left of it with you and family."

"I'll always make time to see you," Prowl promised softly, squeezing Bluestreak's hand as it sank in that he wouldn't be living with him for much longer.

"You better," Bluestreak teased.


End file.
